Father of the Fated: King Miro's Tale
by LittleLlamaGirl
Summary: As a young prince, Miro is torn between his heart and his responsibilty to his people. Which will he choose? Or will fate chose for him?
1. Lessons

_**A/N--**Wahoo! I get to be story 300 in this lovely little corner of . Well Hello all. _

_Those of you who've read my other story, Stumbling into the Light, know that I have thought very deeply about the whole Keldor/Skeletor is Randor's brother idea I've seen floating around for years. I wanted to understand how King Miro, a good man, could have a son that most people had no memory of and who went so terribly wrong. _

_The more I played with the idea to get Keldor's backstory, the more I was convinced that there very well could be a story here about the man who fathered the fated children of Eternia: Randor, fated to fight off the Horde invasion, marry a visitor from another world, and father to He-Man and She-Ra as well as Keldor fated to become Skeletor, Overlord of Evil. _

_So here it is. The story of King Miro of Eternos: Father of the Fated_

* * *

Lessons--Chapter 1

"Boy, get back here," the old warrior called.

"Really, Capain Shonar, I know you're upset that I bested your crack swordmaster, but he had it coming. I will not be treated as though I don't deserve a fair fight because I'm a prince. If that means provoking someone who dares to hold back with me to get him to really fight, then I will, and I did defeat him."

"You did more than provoke him, _highness_," spat the grizzled old soldier. "You insulted him. Your words were low and base and especially unforgivable for one of your station and learning."

"I am sick of hearing about my station, Shonar," Miro shouted. "I never wanted to be a prince in the first place." The young man turned into the wall and kicked a training shield against the wall. I want no part of bending before the wishes of two-faced courtiers who say one thing to my face, and plot against me the moment I'm out of view. I'm sick of the rumors. I'm sick of the people who pretend they care for me just to get close to the power my father holds. I'm sick of stiff dress garments and thick stone walls. I would rather be a warrior like you. Speaking plainly and dealing with things through force and skill not pretty words and worthless customs." Miro dropped down on a low bench in the training chamber. The boy dropped his head in his hands.

'_At least the boy didn't humiliate Lord Farnel in front of the other troops,'_ thought the Captain of the Royal Guard with a reluctant sigh. He looked over at his charge. Shaking his head he thought, '_That boy would make a fine warrior, but fine warriors do not necessarily make great kings.'_

It had seemed like a kindness five years ago, when he first took the lad under his wing at the king's suggestion. The boy had a hard time dealing with the changes of youth. He needed the discipline and achievement that military involvement can give. The exertion and work of unofficially becoming apprentice of the Captain of the Royal Guard helped him mature greatly. He excelled beyond what anyone could have imagined. So much so that there would never be a concern that the military of Eternos would follow their prince into battle. He had proven to all of them that he would ask them to do nothing that he would not get down in the trenches and do with them. He'd grown strong as a warrior and a leader of men--or at least of the armed troops that would one day serve him as they now served his father, but a good king needed to be able to deal with the common people and with the worst kind of people in Shonar's opinion: courtiers.

"Son," Shonar said, sitting beside the lad. "I know it's hard for you. I know you like to be honest and forthright and that the court games wear on you."

"Why can't people just be honest? Why can't people just do what's right for everyone?"

"I don't know, lad. That's why I and your guard have a job, but if you want to honor what we do, my young prince, you must learn tact and diplomacy in everything. Else you will start a war with brash words and my men will lose their lives in battles that are caused by a prince who would not brave the rigors and maze that is politics. We will lay down our lives for you and this kingdom, Miro, but do not ask us to do it unless there is no other option."

"I will try harder to be more diplomatic in the future, Shonar." Miro said, looking into his mentor's green eyes with his brown.

"Lad, it's been an honor to be your teacher and friend these many years, but you must accept that your role as our prince will be expanding now that you have come of age. You are 18 now and your father has had more than one conversation with me about the need to continue your combat education."

Miro looked at the captain, worry in his eyes.

"He and I both agree you should spend more time with your studies and in assisting your father with his work, than here assisting an old soldier like you're some kind of apprentice."

"But Shonar."

"Hush, boy. Your father and I agree that you have mastered the art of self-defense and you are will be an excellent leader for any military action that would be needed for Eternia's future king. You have only the need to practice your skills on a daily basis to keep yourself in shape. I was going to tell you sooner, but it seems now is as good a time as any. Your formal training with me is at an end, Prince Miro. It is time for you to move on."

"What? You can't mean that Shonar!" Miro shouted. He jumped to is feet and began to pace. "You can't believe this is the best thing for me."

"No, my boy, you can't, but it is your father's wish, and I—we will honor it."

Miro clenched his fist and ground his teeth. _'My father is crazy if he thinks I'm going to accept this! There's still so much I need to learn. This isn't fair.' _Miro fumed as he turned on his heel and strode from the training room.

* * *

"Ah, there you are, son," said King Amandor of Eternos.

"What is the meaning of this, Father?"

"I would remind you that you in are in the presence of the King of Eternos, whelp, and I will give you a moment to rephrase your question." King Amandor drew himself to his full height and looked down on his son with his blue eyes narrowed and his jaw twitching.

"I apologize, Father," Miro said quietly, lowering his eyes. It was not the title king that brought reverence to his voice and stance. It was when his father stood thus that Miro remembered how, as monarch, he united his people under one banner, and his sword cut down all those who threatened their home. "I meant no disrespect. If I may ask a question, Father?"

"That's better, young prince. Ask."

"Father, why am I to be removed from training with the Captain of the Guard. I thought I was pleasing you with my achievements in this area of study."

"You have pleased me very well. I have no doubt that you are a fine warrior and commander of men, but a good king is much more than a warrior as your mother has been reminding me more and more of late. Like it or not my son, you must spend time among the courtiers. They have the resouces and the power to extend our influence. They have the capacity to enforce our policies or frustrate our leadership in a thousand tiny ways. I thank the Ancients that Desamira was chosen for me as my wife. My father was a warrior-king as am I. But I have been able to peacefully increase our borders, and our kingdom is more prosperous than it ever has been through the diplomacy and skillful negotiation I have learned from your mother. I have valued her assistance more with each passing year."

"I would also like your help as we seek to stabilize and strengthen our kingdom. You will work with me as I seek a safe and secure future for our people, and you will humbly submit to the tutors your mother sees fit to send to you in the affairs of state. I expect you to become as much an expert in this area of your princely responsibilities as you have been in your study to be a warrior. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sire," Miro said, his face cast down to hide the rage flashing in his eyes.

"Good. Your first tutor will be in first thing in the morning. You will please your mother and me well. You have my leave to go."

"Thank you, sire," Miro said without any hint of gratitude in his flat voice. The young price turned on his heels and started out of his father's office.

"Oh, and Miro."

"Yes, Father?'

"The Princess Ranay of Erswiren will be arriving for her time of service in your mother's court one days hence. You will meet her upon arrival and escort her to your mother with all the charm and manners due to one of her rank."

"Yes, sire," said Miro, his voice a monotone. Quickly, he walked out of the study.

* * *

Miro brooded the next morning as he walked to the study that would be his new training ground for the next undetermined amount of time. He groaned as he took a seat behind the mahogany table. He hated political games and diplomacy. To spend so much time cooped up inside exploring political manovers from every angle and looking through stack of papers and reports not only about kings and leaders but every social misstep and carefully planted rumor that led to a king's demise or a baron's new time of power among the elite both bored and angered him.

Sullenly, the young prince stared out of the window into the training field below. Shonar was working on precision drills with the newest recruits. Oh how he would have liked working beside his friend and mentor.

As quietly as an assassian, Queen Desamira entered the study.

"Son," she began.

Miro jumped to his feet and bowed before his mother. "Dear Mother, he began, "to what do I owe the honor of you presence." Miro was very proud that he kept the irritation and dismay he felt in his current station out of his voice.

Queen Desamira narrowed her eyes and looked at her son appraisingly. She snapped her fan closed and slapped in against her palm as though it were a weapon, and she was about to strike. "Good, it seems that my son is not as incapable of diplomacy as I first thought. If I did not know you so well, I might even be convinced that you were the very soul of respect and obedience."

Miro's head snapped up to meet his mother's gaze. "What?" he asked confused. Then rubbing his neck with his hand, he quickly recovered. "I mean, beg your pardon, Mother?"

"I apologize, my son, I felt you would like a more direct engagement. If I was wrong, I could always be more diplomatic in my approach."

"No, Mother, please," began Miro, realizing that for the first time in a very long time his mother was going to speak plainly to him, and relishing this rare gift.

"I know that you dislike this mental dance that is diplomacy that is employed here in court, but I ask you, my prince? Can you deny the spoils my particular campaigns have worn for our people and the peace of all people surrounding us?"

"No, my queen," Miro answered.

"By calling me my queen you acknowledge my sovereignty and offer me respect. Good." Desamira said, walking around to face her son, "yet you let me know that you do not feel my victories as worthy of the same honor or respect as you do those of your father's battles." She looked down at her son. "I do believe that my initial worry for you has been somewhat relieved. I at least feel that you will be easier to instruct in the areas of diplomacy having already shown some aptitude in this area by your current actions."

Miro blushed and looked down at the floor.

"My son," Queen Desamira began and waited in silence for her son to return her gaze.

Miro looked in his mother's eyes and was shocked by what he saw there. In her deep brown eyes that mirrored his own were a determination and challenge that he understood without a word passing between them.

"Your father and I were well wed. He was a bold warrior that was able to pull this kingdom from the brink of doom with his sword and his valor. I was taught from my birth the ways of court and how to win an alliance with a well placed word or a small favor. Together we have worked to firmly establish this kingdom in peace and increase its prosperity. I am pleased that you are so accomplished in the ways of war. But I know you can be more. I want you to be a king in peace as well and it is my dearest hope that the people of all kingdoms are spared the atrocities of war." Desamira turned to look out the window. Her fan snapped open startling Miro and bringing his attention back to his mother. As she planned, he realized sullenly.

"I know that you appreciate the plain dealings and respect of the men you served with and commanded in the troops and the subterfuge and careful actions of a courtier are not to your taste because they seem." She paused for a moment, as though looking for the right word.

"Dishonorable," Miro supplied, then stopped as he saw his mother's satisfied smirk. She had meat to draw him out--and she had done just that he realized with self loathing. He had just given her a tool that she could use against him, and he knew it.

"I see by the look on your face that you realize exactly what has passed between us."

"Yes, Mother," he spat now pacing to the other side of the room. "You have once again shown how you can twist and turn anyone's conversations to suit your whims and I stepped right into it."

"It makes you angry?" she asked her face now a mask and her tone shrouded in innocence.

Miro stopped his pacing. He turned to face his mother and gathered himself. Finally, his face a mask, he bowed slightly to his mother. "I see the importance of these lessons now my mother. I will apply all diligence in them."

Deep within Queen Desamira of Eternia congratulated herself. She knew that her son would not relish his newest lessons, and she new just as clearly that despite his intelligence and military prowess that he would not be successful in this new and peace blessed world if he did not develop in all areas necessary for a monarch. Now by facing him in an open challenge and showing him just how easily she had manipulated and shaped his responses, she knew that she had put before Miro a challenge that the young warrior's heart would not be able to reject. He would study as hard to avoid being trapped as easily in the future. She was sure of that now.

Queen Desamira extended her hand to her son. Miro took it as kissed her hand gently. "Thank you, Mother for your visit, and your lesson."

Desamira nodded and left her son.

Miro sat at the table now dejected. His mother had a point. As much as he wanted to avoid this side of his royal duty, he could not. And he never wanted to be cornered like his mother had done so easily. He knew that for sure.


	2. Protocol's Prize

**Author's Note : **Mattel owns MOTU and I make no money from any of this. Please don't sue. And for your amusement I present chapter 2!

Later from the Llama

* * *

Chapter 2--Protocol's Price

Miro slumped as he poured over documents and books scattered about on the wide mahogany table. He tapped notes into his datapad. "I hope I'm right about this," he muttered as he continued his preparations for his first diplomatic mission with his father. _'Doing well in this mission might well help end these torturous lesson sooner. At least I may be able to ease up a little bit,' _Miro thought, hope rising inside him. "No," he told himself firmly. "A soldier doesn't make it to the battlefield by marking the miles, and I won't achieve the goal of ending these horrid lessons by worrying about when they will end. I will focus."_ 'I have to give my mother credit though,' _the young prince thought grudgingly, _'to be able to keep all of this in my mind and pretend amusement and delight in those silly teas and balls is beginning to seem as dangerous as some sorties I've been involved in.'_

Miro shook his head. He was beginning to comprehend the level of work and effort that she put into her office. He would learn this skill. However, he was beginning to hope that he would find a wife as skilled in all things politics as his mother because no matter how much he knew these matter were pressing, he still found them distasteful.

He looked out the window of the study to see a transport approaching. Miro grimaced. "That would be another one of my mother's recruits," he muttered, stacking his books to the side. "I suppose I'd better go see this latest princess to her rank within mother's retinue."

He pulled at his black tunic and red jacket and straightened his red leather belt over his black leggings. _'I looked like the perfect scholar prince,'_ he thought with disgust. He ran his fingers through his hair—cut in the latest fashion. He sighed. He longed to let his hair grow long and untamed like his father, but his mother had insisted a year ago that he look like a prince not a vagabond. So now he wore his hair in the fashion of his mother's kingdom--bangs sweeping over his eyes and the rest cut to bend in just above his shoulders. The fashion was so loved that even the page boys had begun to adopt this ridiculous style. He hated it.

Miro kept a mental list of all the things he was looking forward to the day he ascended his throne. He added to that list now that he would be able to wear his hair in any way he pleased. He turned to walk down to the hanger bay. His high leather boots clicked on the newly waxed tiles as he strode to meet his charge. The red fur that trimmed the mid calf black leather of his boot was all the latest rage now, and was at least one thing his mother could not disapprove of no matter how much fur was the sign of a warrior. Miro fished out the scrap of paper from the inside of his pocket. Princess Ranay of Erstwiren--that was who he was to meet.

She would be lovely, no doubt. All who came to his mother's court were lovely in one way or another. He'd learned long ago that taking things at face value could lose a soldier the battle, so he did not let the beauty of these princesses sway him. Even those ladies who were lacking in great natural charm were so well versed in the art of camouflage that they could at least look stylish. And those who did not sparkle with that something special before they were entrusted to his mother's care soon found themselves better then they had ever been before. That was, if his mother chose to like them. If she did not, the princess always left degraded just a bit. Not even conscious of the change Miro was sure, but his mother's touch could be as deadly socially as it could be advantageous. _'I hope Father is right about Mother always having the best interest of the kingdom in mind because she could cause a multitude of tiny problems for us all if she wished it. She would do it so well, I do not doubt the very kingdom would be in danger.' _Miro laughed ruefully, _'She's already turned my life upside down with just a few words.'_

Still at least when he turned this latest vapid vicious court viper over to his mother's pit he would be free to begin to prove to his father that he was learning his lesson well and soon, he hoped, be relieved of these tiresome duties.

The large silver and red shuttle landed in the hanger with a noisy thump. The door hissed as it lowered slowly. '_Probably slowed intentionally to help heighten the experience of the princess's reveal,'_ Miro thought sourly. He'd had women seeking to entrap his emotions and seek his throne since he was 15. Thankfully in at least this area his mother's expertise protected him from anyone getting too close.

"Your Highness, I must insist," said a young maiden, limping down the ramp to the stone floor of the hanger.

"Nonsense, Janis, You were hurt. You cannot carry this bag, and I can carry it just fine," Princess Ranay said to her servant.

"A problem with your servant?" asked Miro amused. _This is a new ploy. I wonder what she hopes to achieve with it?'_

"Your Highness," said the lovely blond woman curtseying clumsily before him, her bag obviously throwing her off.

Janis, the maid, blanched and looked very dizzy all of the sudden.

Miro was about to reach out to the princess to help her restore her balance when Ranay pulled herself out of her curtsey. She looked up into his hard brown eyes with her gentle blue. "My noble host," she began not lowering her gaze, "my servant was thrown from her seat when our vessel experienced turbulence while passing through a storm. She has hurt her ankle, and I do not wish to impose upon my hosts, but I wondered if you had a healer or a sorcerer that could look at her injuries?"

Miro looked in the woman's soft blue eyes. There was something about her that unsettled him, though he could not place it.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "Guards," he signaled into his wrist com. "I need several of you to come to the hanger bay now."

"Yes, Highness," came the staticky reply over the communicator.

Miro turned to assist Princess Ranay with her bag when he saw her leading her servant to a low crate within the hanger. "Just wait here, Janis."

"Highness, really. I'll be fine. I don't wish to cause you any problems."

"You don't. You are dear to me, Janis, and you were in the midst of serving me when you fell. I will not allow you to injure yourself further. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Highness," Janis replied, her head lowered and her cheeks still a flaming red.

Miro looked at this princess thoughtfully. If this were a ruse meant to impress him, it was working. _'Yes, _he thought_, 'she seems concerned for her maid and not for her dignity. That, at least, is a refreshing tactic,' _mused Miro. The guards entered and soon were escorting the maid to the healer and carrying Princess Ranay's belongings to her chambers.

"Princess," said Miro, extending his arm to the young woman as she turned from thanking the guards for caring for her maid.

"Prince Miro," she replied, falling quickly into a ladylike curtsey. "I thank you greatly for caring for my maid."

"Think nothing of it," he said politely as she rose and took his arm.

"Would you like to freshen up before you go before the queen?" asked Miro, already dreading the answer. How many other princesses had said yes to this and wasted so much more of his time in an effort to impress him and spend more time in his presence. He hated making the offer, but if he proved anything less than the perfect host he would pay dearly for his lack of courtesy. Of that he had no doubt.

"No, thank you," she answered quickly. "I do not wish to keep the queen waiting. The journey was not hard. At least," she amended quickly, "for me. Poor Janis. Can you arrange for her to be brought to my rooms after treatment?"

"Of course," said Miro. _'You are unlike many other of mother's courtiers,' _he thought as he walked her through the twisting maze of halls that led to his mother's chambers.

They walked in a companionable silence for a while. Miro found that at least this courtier was bearable.

"You have been most gracious, Prince Miro," she said as she approached the door to his mother's solar. "I thank you for your kindness."

Miro nodded quickly and opened the door to his mother's nest of vipers. Suddenly he felt a twinge of guilt for bringing this young woman here, but he shook it off quickly reminding himself that she too must learn to play these games, and, he told himself, _'If anyone can teach her what she needs to know it is Mother.'_

"My Mother, may I present Princess Ranay of Erstwiren?" Miro asked with a low bow. Giggles echoed around the warm room where the women were practicing the art of embroidery.

"You may," Queen Desamira answered. The queen rose and embraced the lovely young woman.

"How was your journey?"

"It was pleasant for me, and your son has been most hospitable. I thank you for your welcome this day," she said simply, returning the queen's hug.

"You may leave us, Miro."

Miro barely contained the breath he'd been holding. He was worried that he would be drawn into some vapid discussion of the weather or the lack of quality linen in the market these days. He bowed again. "Ladies," he said and turned quickly out the door, their lilting laughter following him down the hall.

* * *

An unsteady stack of papers wobbled as the large carrier transport turned to make its approach to the Kingdom of Illgar. Miro laid his hands on the documents quickly and stowed them in the leather box he'd brought to keep them in. "Let's hope you've pointed me in the right direction," Miro muttered as he carefully wedged the odd collection of myth, lore, law, and legal proceedings under his seat in the transport. Illgar's rare deposits of metal made this treaty and trade agreement of vital importance to the future of the kingdom. The young prince had studied for this agreement with all of the passion he'd once poured into his battle plans. _'I wish I didn't feel like I am about to throw up. I never get this nervous before a battle or sparring. This had better please you, Father,'_ Miro raged silently.

He returned to his seat just as the transport dipped below the tree-lined courtyard that was considered the site of the first home of the first human to inhabit this region. As a symbol of respect to their forbearers, the corner stone of that first house remained in the center of the red-gold paved plaza that greeted princes, players, and petitioners.

It was a long-lost tradition among most visitors to this special spot, but it was considered a token of great respect to place a ruffled lily on this stone upon entry to honor Mistana, the first wife and considered to be mother to this kingdom. It was a tradition never demanded and long out of use. Miro held the ruffled lily in his hand and hoped that this token as well as the greeting he had learned in one of the cherished myths of the people would set a their minds at ease and turn their hearts toward him and his father's kingdom.

* * *

King Amanandor noticed very quickly that Miro had seemed to impress their hosts. Between that and the footage he'd seen of his son's interaction with the princess of Erstwiren he was growing ever more pleased with his son, and even more grateful for his wife's reading of situations and sense of timing.

"I'm very happy Desamira was born a woman and an ally because I would not have liked to face her as the general of an opposing army," he muttered as he chuckled to himself as he followed the ambassadors and his retinue, led by his son, into the meeting chamber.

* * *

The negotiations were swift. His son won over the Illgarians with his manners and understanding of their ways. Amanandor was impressed with his son's focus and knew that he had applied himself just has he had commanded.

"You did well."

"Thank you, Father," Miro said hopefully. If he could continue this way maybe soon he could return to the troops where he belonged.

"Thanks to your tact and skillful negotiation, we have concluded these trade talks a full two days ahead of schedule."

"I am glad to be of service," Miro stated.

"I feel that such hard work on behalf of the kingdom should be rewarded. I have brought along a prototype of a new airsled, son. I call it SkyWind. You may use it and take the next day to relax in the village."

"Really?" asked Miro amazed. His father was allowing him a day to relax—to simply relax.

"Do I say that which I don't mean?" asked his father, a stern look crossing his face.

"No, sire" Miro said quickly. He took the keycard and the small purse his father offered him. "Thank you," he said, grinning largely.

"You are welcome. Just make sure you are back before sunset tomorrow. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely. I will."

"Then I will bid you good evening, my son. I will see you at sunset tomorrow if not before."

"Yes sire."

* * *

Miro's hair flowed in the wind as he pushed the SkyWind faster than he'd ever flown before. The stars scattered across the velvet night sky winked and sparkled above him as though celebrating the freedom that the young prince felt soaring above the clouds. To be free of duties and responsibilities for a whole day. Ah, now that was a true reward.

He hadn't even bothered to go to bed. He'd had more than enough survival training from Shonar to camp even if he were dropped n the middle of nowhere with no supplies. He'd even talked Shonar into doing just that with him just after he'd turned sixteen. Shonar had forced him to carry a communicator, but it had still been one of the best experiences of his life.

And now he was going to sleep out of the suffocating stone walls that he was so used to, and under the stars yet again. He was thrilled. He loved the outdoors, and would often go to the ramparts and sleep on a cot under the stars. Tonight he would roll out a simple blanket taken from the transport, and use his change of clothes as his pillow. Tonight he would just be another man under the stars.


	3. Investigations

**Author's Note**: Hello, readers! :o)

I do not own Miro, Randor, Keldor. Only those original characters I create. I make absolutely no money from this. This probably is a clue that I am not entirely sane in that I spend countless hours writing this solely for fun. I suppose that makes me uniquely insane. Viva la Insanity!

I hope you enjoy, and wish you, my readers the best.

Later from the Llama, one really hot mama!

* * *

Investigations

The dawn rose, lovely and warm. Miro quickly bathed in the small creek he had slept beside during the night and changed into his practice togs. _'I look like an off-duty soldier,'_ he thought as he looked at his reflection in the slow current. _'An off-duty soldier with a bad haircut,'_ he amended, pulling his trendy haircut back and tying it with a leather lace. He quickly packed his belongings into the storage compartment of the SkyWind and headed to the nearby village for a good breakfast.

Miro landed in a small clearing just outside of the town. He parked the SkyWind in a thick copse of trees and turned on the hologram mode that shielded it from view. Today he was just an ordinary man.

Miro strolled into the village wearing a wide grin, saying hello to all who greeted him without reservation. Anyone who greeted him here did so because they meant it, not because they were seeking favor and position. He loved mingling in the village among the people who didn't know him. It was a heady feeling—to just be liked or disliked openly for who you were.

Miro nodded as he passed some washer women at their work. They giggled and waved to him as he strolled down the road. He found their giggles, although harsh and uncultured compared with the lilting titters of his mothers courtiers, did not grate on his nerves, and that these woman, with their callused hands and coarse features, were much more appealing to him than any of those painted dolls that attended his mother's every word.

Miro grinned broadly as he imagined bringing a washer woman home as his bride simply because he liked her. He chuckled to himself. _'Oh but they would flay and beat me within an inch of my life. And my mother…she would make my life torment every day thereafter. Of that I have no doubt. Oh but it would be fun though.' _Miro shook his head to clear the ridiculous notion from his mind.He'd long ago understood that his parents had every intention of choosing his wife, but he had a surprise for them. In this one area, he was going to make the choice. Yes, he would limit his choices to those women who were of noble birth, but he would not have someone he did not trust or did not like.

Besides, his father had hinted that he could choose his own wife if he mastered this skill of diplomacy, provided his mother approved her. Well if today was any indication he was going to be fine.

Miro entered the bright tavern and looked around at the warm worn tables all around. He quickly found a seat in the shadow of the stairs to the upper floor and smiled as a serving woman came to his table.

"What can I do for you, kind sir?" she asked as she approached the table.

"I would like some warm bread and butter, and cool milk."

"Of course," she said as she walked into the kitchen to care for her customer.

Miro sat in the corner watching the people who came in and out of the tavern with great interest. He'd always enjoyed observing others. His mother encouraged that habit, but chided him for being so obvious about it. When in battle, being observant was essential if one wanted to survive. He learned so much from his study of human interaction. But more than anything else, it was entertaining.

The young prince leaned back into the shadows as three worn travelers passed and sat at the table nearest his.

"Did you hear about the treaty?" a tanned middle-aged merchant asked his companion.

"Aye, I did. And about time it is that our leaders stopped being so self-absorbed that they start thinking about taking measures to ensure all of our prosperity, not just their own."

"Too true," muttered the younger, auburn-haired merchant, draining his cup. "I hear that the Eternian royals played our great and wise leaders like fiddles. I would love to meet one of 'em now and thank them for helping get King Peirce the Second to see reason. Maybe we can arrange some protection from those blasted blue demons that keep ruining our harvesting runs along the borders of the Vine Jungle."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up with that." muttered the oldest of the three men as he wiped a kerchief over his bald head. "No one but those of us who've seen the monsters believe that they're real, and there are few enough of us alive to tell the tale. Besides, there are too many dangerous things in that cursed jungle anyway to convince those who don't know any better that those fiends are more than a tale to scare children. We're just going to have to keep taking our chances to gather the melark leaves for the apothecaries, or find fools trying to prove their courage to get it for us."

"Problem is that more people have gone missing lately near that section of the jungle," said the younger merchant with a troubled look on his face. He drained his tankard as the other men nodded.

'I know. I heard the other day that the logging family just on the western edge of the village lost their daughter." The tanned man stopped for a moment, his eyes misty with unshed tears. "She was supposed to be a lovely young slip of a thing—not much older than my daughter is now. Ah, but I don't envy that poor family. I don't understand it. That girl was supposed to have some sense."

"Yes to just go wandering off that close to the jungle. I would have given her more credit than that too, but the child is gone. Gone for good." The others nodded sadly and continued to eat in silence.

Miro leaned a bit closer. _'Well, this is a nice mystery. I read those reports about the "demons" but I assumed it was folklore. Looks like I've found an adventure,' _the young prince thought as he grew eager with anticipation. He'd read reports of blue creatures but because the more educated section of the populous dismissed them as a child's legend, so had he. It was supposed by the leadership of the kingdoms that some people had darkened their skin with a blue pigment and used the fear the villagers had for these creatures as a way to rob and destroy the locals. _'_

_If I'm lucky, I can find the people responsible for the thefts and missing people, or I could discover another species. One way or the other I could do something interesting with the investigation and it's bound to be fun. Besides,'_ thought Miro with a laugh,_ 'who's going to be able to catch me anyway on my father's SkyWind? It's faster than anything ever built. There has to be some logical reason for these disappearance and I'm going to find out what it is.' _And, he reminded himself, _'The Vine Jungle is supposed to be a beautiful sight to behold.'_

* * *

Miro stopped by the booth of a cloth merchant. The woman's green eyes sparkled with a youth no longer on her weathered face.

"What can I do for you, young sir?" she asked.

"I am not from around here, ma'am," he said with an awkward bow. A bow meant to further the impression that he was a simple soldier. "I heard rumors of some strange blue monsters who roam the jungle. I was wondering if there was any truth to it?"

"Aye," she said quickly. "I know of some people who live along the border of that jungle who've lost loved one or livestock to those fiends. They are said to be able to appear and disappear at will, and that they hunger for the taste of human flesh." The woman sighed as she shook her head. "I truly feel sorry for anyone who lives along the border to that jungle. Tis not safe for man nor beast no matter the great treasures found in that jungle."

"Do you know where they are most often seen?"

"That I cannot say for sure. It depends on who is telling you, but it's said that there's a mountain in the forest. I'm told it's cursed with the spirits of the victims."

"Thank ye, much," Miro said, attempting to mimic the speech of the villagers.

Miro mingled among the people the rest of the morning, asking about the sighting of the blue demons. Soon, assured that he knew around where most of the sightings and thefts occurred, he returned to climb aboard his SkyWind to check it out.

Miro lost himself for a short while in the feeling of freedom that came from flying above the small village of Grenen and the lovely fields in full bloom of summer. He was laughing as he sped toward the border of the jungle.

'_I have to have one of these,'_ he thought to himself and he continued to race past a large river that marked the "danger" zone according to most of the villager's tales. He soon saw the great sea of green that was the canopy of the Vine Jungle and slowed his SkyWind to a creeping coast. The jungle was immense and enticing. There were sounds of all manner of creatures around and lovely birds and creatures that were barely noticeable to those who had not been taught to look as closely to details as he had been during Shonar's training. It was a truly wild place. What he wouldn't give to spend a week exploring this untouched paradise.

Miro shook his head and focused back on his reason for coming. He sped up and began to skim the leafy green carpet beneath him, barely missing the foliage as he looked for gaps. He saw very quickly that there were few openings and that he would not be able to make a thorough enough investigation of this from the sky level. He soon gave up his search and lifted the SkyWind higher above the canopy and began to race about the rustling branches. Miro saw a mountain rise in the distance and grinned as he descended toward it. He remembered the words of the cloth merchant about this cursed place, with a shake of his head. Miro sighed as he remembered of the fear in the children's eyes who shared with him tales of people who stepped on this mountain and were never seen again. This mountain was a thing of beauty, and from the sound of it, was teeming with life. How could something so lovely, so natural, be cursed? He would have to see the poor village children were straightened out about that before he returned to his father.

Miro circled the mountain that the villagers claimed was the center of the blue demons' realm, looking down at the rare patches of forest floor visible below. Beautiful brilliant colored plants curled around the bank of a lovely river. A clearing filled with chattering tree jumpers and bright blue Sweetsap pods passed beneath him. Off to his right he saw rock formations rising on the northern side of the mountain, but nowhere could he see sign of any creature than the usual jungle dwelling animals.

Reluctantly, he turned the SkyWind to leave when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. Miro heard a crackling and saw an icy blue bolt of energy head right toward him.

"Blast!" he shouted as he swerved to the side and climbed even higher. "How could anyone get a freeze cannon into this jungle?" he wondered aloud.

The sparking and crackling sound of power echoed behind him. _'The sizzle of the bolt should have faded by now,'_ he thought as he looked over his shoulder in a panic. The bolt had gathered itself into a ball of light and was pursuing him. Miro pushed the throttle wide open and bent low over the SkyWind to get as much speed as he could from the engines. The orb of radiant power increased speed as well.

Miro cursed as he wove to the side at the last minute to avoid a taller copse of trees that rose in front of him. The ball burned through the leaved leaving a trail of smoke behind it.

The smoke from the burning leaves stung his eyes as strange power veered toward him. Miro pulled the SkyWind up sharply when he felt the ball of energy explode across his back. Thrown from the SkyWind by the force of the blast, he fell toward the canopy as the blue light followed and began to envelop him. He was struggling to scream when everything went dark.


	4. Bonds

**Author's Notes: **Sorry for the delay. Life lately has been....well....life. Anywho here we start departing from the summary a bit and allow you to see more of the events as they happened and details only mentioned in _Stumbling into the Light. _Hope you enjoy.

I haven't done this in a while so thanks to EvelynCMB for your help betareading this work and I don't own Miro, Eternia, or any part of the MOTU universe. I make no money. Please don't sue the Llama.

* * *

Chapter 4—Bonds

A shimmering blue light spread out on the forest floor as the unconscious prince materialized.

"What do you want me to do with it?" yelled the elderly blue elf to his servant. "I have no need of this soulless and, most likely, useless boy."

Henden sighed. He'd served Lord Waben all of his life, and though the Alama'Odela were long-lived, they could fall into senility as they reached the end of their days. He was fairly certain his aged master would soon not be able to care for himself at all. Henden explained his reasoning patiently. "I thought that you could offer him to Lord Garenal in place of my life," said the servant with a low bow. "That was why I suggested that your son capture it. I knew that you did not wish to give me over to this lord any more than I wished to pass into his service. I did not think that you would mind an ugly pink mine worker as a tool to pay your debt to the great lord. As it is, I am the last servant you own. I know your sons, as well and I, are concerned that you have a house with no servants. What would such a development do to your social standing?" '_And.'_ Henden thought to himself, _'who knows how long it will be before you burn your house down around yourself without proper supervision.'_

"You have a point," said the older lord. "I did not explain what kind of servant I was going to bring him. I just said a servant. Good thinking, but you are in charge of touching the disgusting thing. I will not sully myself with this useless waste of flesh."

"You know, Henden," the aged elf continued in a nasal voice, "There are times you almost seem intelligent. I will arrange some time for you in the breeding pens as a reward for your quick thinking. Follow me."

"As you wish, my Lord," said the lighter blue elfin figure bowing to his elderly master, a grimace on his face. He did not mind touching this new slave. Henden did mind the fact that another poor creature would feel the yoke of slavery at his urging. _'But I don't want to fall under the rule of Lord Garenal. He is a monster. And at least this one will not be in his presence for abuse personally from his hand. Garenal would not allow anyone this pale to enter his door. Even in the mines, he would be better treated than I would in serving in Garenel's house,'_ he rationalized. _'Besides, old Waben needs me.'_

* * *

Miro groaned weakly. His head spun and his vision narrowed to two tiny rotating spots of light. He felt heavy chains about his ankles and wrist. A strange blue elf creature lifted him up to its face and snarled something unintelligible to him. He wished that he could snarl back, but right now even staying conscious was a battle he feared he would not win. The young prince was jerked to his feet and dragged before a group of well-dressed blue elves. These creatures did not seem like strange-flesh eating demons, but rather civilized men who just happened to be blue with pointed ears. Men whose irritation was as obvious as the disdain on their faces. Miro didn't know what he'd done to end up in this predicament, but he was fairly certain he was in serious trouble.

Miro looked around slowly. His vision cleared as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He was pulled by his chains like a pet on a leash. They circled the base of the cursed mountain slowly until they reached a strange set of boulders on the west ridge. The lightest blue of those elves surrounding him shoved him, none too gently, between a small gap in the rocks. The one who'd snarled threateningly at Miro earlier grabbed the chain and jerked the prince below into a small cave opening. The other people's voices drifted back to him in their strange, almost musical language. Miro hit his head several different times as he didn't see the ledges of rock hanging from above. His guide chuckled at his cries of pain and pulled on his bonds even harder. Miro was bleeding over his right eye and covered in bruises to his arms and shoulders when he finally emerged into a wide cavern behind the other elves.

Miro gaped at what he saw. Great columns carved to resemble the trees above in the forest rose to an earthen roof covered with sparking green faceted stones.

Carved walls rose around him in the shapes of grand houses with wide balconies. These lovely dwellings overlooked the main walkways that twisted and wove in front of them. Scenes of elven marriages, battles, and celebrations were carved into the walls with a lovely looping script, more art than writing, surrounding each relief.

Sparking stones shone from the luminous Mage lights that illuminated the underground city, so this cavern was lit like the middle of the day.

Art and beauty were everywhere. Amazed by what he saw, Miro was not sure where he was, but he was certain that these people were not mere demons. It was this fact that gave him a bit of hope as he approached one of the large structures, still following the group of elves.

Miro found himself being dragged through a fine wood door into a great and spacious hallway. He heard arguing and soon another pushed him into a room and shoved him to the feet of another blue elf. One look at his jet black eyes, hard and flashing with anger, and Miro's stomach twisted even more tightly.

A young male, with the same dark blue complexion as the person standing over him began speaking.

Miro slowly got to his hands and knees as he heard their two voices go from a civil tone to an argument. Finally, pointing to the door with an angry sneer, his captors were led out by others Miro assumed must be servants.

Miro looked up and started to ask, "Where am I?" but before he could even get the words out of his mouth, he was kicked into a wall.

The large elven male he'd been tossed in front of pulled him up off the floor and slammed in him to the wall so that hard that his teeth were rattled. He stared into Miro's eyes and said in that same dangerous voice something that Miro didn't understand and was fairly certain he didn't want to either. He passed the battered prince off to another elven man wearing a strange leather and metal collar. Miro followed him down the halls with the other slaves.

They walked for what seemed like countless hours. The only thing that helped Miro feel better about this enforced march was that he was sure he had a concussion and the marching, at least, kept him awake. Without realizing when it first began, he found himself being dragged through dank and dark caverns that seemed devoid of all life. He was struggling to stay conscious at first, but his emotions soon kicked in to help him fight away sleep, for with each step, his rage grew. He was Miro, Prince of Eternia. Oh how these monsters would pay when he had the chance. He would get out of here, he promised himself.

They came into a larger cavern that was filled with some rough torches that smoked and sputtered.

The large elf called for some of his underlings. Or at least that was what Miro assumed these people were. Men like him and others with skin various shade of elven blue were gathered by a gaping opening. He saw large bins filled with some kind of ore. '_Great,'_ he thought, _'a slave mine.'_

Another blue elf that Miro assumed was the overseer by the lash wrapped around his shoulder trotted up to the master. He pointed to Miro with a sneer. _'This does not look good,' _the prince thought to himself. The elf gripped his lash as he muttered and shouted as two other miners walked up, pulling a woman out from the inside of the cave. She was struggling against the men in spite of the fact that she had a swollen eye and a bruise over her right cheek. _'What's a woman doing in a mine?' _wondered Miro.

The lordling roared at the men and threw two powerful bolts of magic at the overseer holding the woman. He pulled the woman to him in another blast of blue light that enveloped her much as the light that had captured Miro had done. This time however, in addition to pulling her to him, the overseer also healed her wounds. He spoke to her soothingly and reached out to stoke her cheek. She jerked away.

A look of fury appeared on his face and quickly hardened to stony rage. The apparent leader among these creatures slapped her into a wall. Miro had seen enough. _'I have get out of here._' He saw the overseer ignore the plight of the woman who crumpled to the stone floor; instead the blue-skinned man approached Miro. He snarled menacingly at the prince and pointed to his whip. Then he removed the cuffs from Miro's ankles and wrists.

Miro attacked and threw the overseer back into the dark opening, grabbing his whip from the elf as it fell. He cracked the whip forward. The group in front of him moved aside with amused looks on their faces. Miro desperately began to back away, toward the way they had come. The woman lifted her head and groaned. The wizard just laughed at Miro and motioned for his men to stay behind him. A strange blue light glowed around his hand and Miro started to run. He heard the creature say something to the woman still leaning against the wall and then felt himself freeze. He struggled as the lord and his men surrounded him. There were looks of loathing on each of their faces as they circled him, their fists clenched. He felt the first blow hit him in his ear, and then saw no more.

* * *

Keelyandira leaned heavily against the wall she'd been thrown against. She was truly tired of Lord Garenal's ploys to win her favor and even more wearied of her experiences with his rough hand. '_Still, it could be worse,'_ she told herself. _'I could be experiencing his "loving" hand.'_ She saw the men drag the poor unconscious boy over to her side and drop him there without caring if they injured him further.

"You act as though you find my touch disgusting, little Keely, so I will let you know what truly disgusting is. You will be solely responsible for the training and healing of this despicable soulless one. You will never leave his side till I give you permission to do so. And if he sullies you with his base flesh, perhaps you will realize you could have had so much more."

Keely lowered her head, light purple blush snaking across her cheeks.

She would have to act upset. That was easily enough accomplished. All she had to do was remember the cruelty with which they had beaten this poor man. She remembered the pain she felt when she was sold away from her mother to pay a gambling debt. "You monster," she shouted. "I despise you."

"I would blast most servants into a pile of ash for less. And yet you continue to try my patience. Well, you will not duck this responsibility by provoking me to send you to an early death. I will see you beg me to take you back as my handmaiden when you have spent enough time in the presence of this coarse male."

Keely leaned forward, fuming inwardly. Her spinning vision threatened to knock her to the ground, so now she was leaning on the ground as though kneeling. She hated this.

"That's better, little slave." Garenal said condescendingly. "I am a merciful overlord. If you do well with this filth, I may let you beg to enter my bed and my service. Until later." The lord turned away with his lackeys laughing cruelly. Garenal turned back as Keely tried to stand up. "I hope he does take you. That way you will have even more reason to be grateful to your lord when I show what a true male can do."

Keely lowered her head so her master would not see the rage in her eyes. She could not stop herself from the silent sobs that shook her body. Nor did she try. Her master wanted her pain. To deny him would only lead to harsher punishment, and she was tired. So very tired.

She wanted to sleep and was grateful that she was supposed to care for this hurt man. He had head injuries, of that she was sure. She would be left alone with him for days until he was out of immediate danger. She would have to wake him up of course, but much of the time she could sleep as well and order extra healing herbs in the guise of healing this hot-headed young fool while still having enough left over for herself. She was sure that this "punishment" would make her days much easier. She reached down and pulled the man next to her as he groaned in protest. He was heavy but not too much for her. She dragged him to a side hall that served as a makeshift infirmary and laid him down on a clear section of stone floor. She washed his wounds, then her own, and placed a poultice of herbs on his wounds and then her own. So she could feel his breathing even while she was asleep, she laid by his side, her hand on his chest so that she would always know if he were breathing. '_This will work,'_ she decided. She would wake him, and if the Ancients blessed, he would live.

Miro groaned. He felt something wet and sticky on his forehead, and he remembered the last fight he had with that elven lord. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a blue hand on his chest. He started. For the briefest of moments he had allowed himself to hope that he had only dreamed his capture. Then his warrior training kicked in and he was fully back to reality. He was trapped in some kind of strange underground civilization. There were others like him in the group of people gathered outside of the mines; surely one of them could communicate.

"So you finally awaken?" whispered a female's voice into his ear.

Miro jerked and immediately regretted it. A moan escaped his lips.

"Shhhh! I know you're hurt, but you must not make too much noise. If the foreman sees that you are able to talk, he may try to rush you into the mines. We need to make this illness seem as long as possible."

Miro attempted to nod and stopped as his world began to spin around him.

"Don't try to communicate verbally. If you need to say yes move your right thumb back and forth. If no, just hold it down to your hand. Do you understand?"

Miro moved his right thumb up and down.

Keely smiled. "I guess you want to know a great many things?"

Miro wiggled his thumb vigorously in a clear yes.

"I am Keely, and like you, I am a slave of Lord Garenal."

Miro flinched and tried to shake his head.

"Stop," Keely whispered laying her hand on his forehead to still the movement. "Whatever you once were, know now that you are a slave to Lord Garenal."

_'A slave?'_ Miro thought in a panic. He was overwhelmed with a sick feeling that had nothing to do with his injuires. How could he, in one moment, go from being a prince with the world at his feet and the next minute become someone who worth only depended on the whim of another. How coud he endure this? _'I can't be a slave,' _he thought miserably. _'I won't live this way. I had to have misheard her.'_

"You are in the home of the Alma'Odela. The name in our language means enlightened souls. They believe that only they have souls and that all others who are not of their pure blood are chattel and good for nothing else but serving them, which is why we are both in the circumstances we find ourselves in now."

Miro grimaced, both at the pain and at the uncomfortable truth this woman shared with him. _'I don't know how,' _Miro promised himself_, 'but I will escape from here.'_

"Here," Keely whispered gently. She reached behind Miro's shoulders and lifted him up against a rag-covered stone.

Miro felt a spoon containing some warm liquid up against his lips.

"Drink," Keely instructed.

Miro sipped at the bitter liquid. He choked and coughed causing his world to spin sickeningly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered laying a cool rag on the unbandaged side of his head. "I need you to drink this. I know it's bitter, but it will heal you."

Miro grimaced as he forced down more of the vile concoction. Finally, when the world stopped spinning, he slowly opened his eyes. He saw a curvaceous yet slender silhouette turned to trim the wick for a lantern. Her midnight blue hair hung in a loose ponytail. Tendrils of hair hung in loose curls about her head. Her ears were pointed like her masters. His eyes had just adjusted to the dim light when she turned back to him.

Miro's breath caught in his throat. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Eyes of the deepest blue looked out at him. Those lovely eyes were gracefully tilted. Her nose was straight and lovely and her lips a full and lovely lavender. Her face was an oval with high cheekbones and her blue skin was just a shade darker than a summer sky. Her hair was almost a complete match to her lovely eyes and it shown like the softest and finest of thread. Miro was consumed with an overwhelming urge to stroke her cheek. Only his weakness prevented him from following through on his heart's desire.

"Feeling better?" she asked, placing a fresh, cool cloth on his fevered brow.

"Yes," he breathed hoarsely.

Keely smiled without realizing that his improved state had little to do with her medical aid and everything to do with the fact that _she_ was the one who was caring for him.

In that instant, Miro made another promise to himself. _'When I escape, she is coming with me."_


	5. Plans and Promises

**Author's Note: **Hi to those of you out there reading. Life has been hectic so this is may be the last update to the story till I beat the 50,000 word mark on my first ever attempt at completing the NaNoWriMo challenge in the creation of an original fic, so this one may not be updated for a few weeks at least. Sorry.

As always Evelyn and Mysti thanks for being my betas, and I own nothing and make no money from this.

* * *

Chapter 5—Plans and Promises

Keely leaned back with a sigh. She had finally come to a point with her charge that she was fairly certain that he was without a concussion and had encouraged him to sleep. She, too felt the weariness overwhelming her as she leaned down beside him, and placed her hand on his chest. Soon she slept as well.

The next time she woke she found his hand holding hers. She pulled away firmly. She would have to establish some ground rules with this man. Yet when she lifted up to look at him her resolve weakened. He was so utterly handsome. _'No,' _she thought, shaking herself mentally. _'I don't want to have anything to do with that kind of relationship. I want to figure out a way to get out of this without ending up in any man's bed. I will not take the chance that I will bear a child into slavery if I have any way to stop it.'_

Somewhere in the back of her mind another thought cropped up. _'How long are you going to cling to this notion, Keely? You are a slave. If you ever are removed to another lord's household you may not be in the care of some self-absorbed lord who wants you to come to his bed to pad his ego, and therefore waits till you allow it. You will end up with one who will take you and use you in every and any situation he chooses. If you like this man, why not allow yourself to know happiness from his touch? He seems to like you, and he is brave and seems intelligent.'_

Before Keely could continue in her thoughts the man woke with a moan.

He turned his rich brown eyes toward her and reached for her hand.

Against her better judgment, Keely allowed him to take it. He raised it to his lips and placed a chaste kiss upon it. Keely's breath caught at the gallant gesture.

"Thank you," the man whispered as he released her hand.

"You're welcome," she whispered lowering head closer to his as she pretended to check his bandages. "What is your name?" she mouthed without a sound.

"Miro," he whispered.

"Do you remember mine?" she asked.

"Keely," he replied in a soft whisper. _'As if I could ever forget the name of a woman as lovely as you,' _Miro thought, gazing into his beautiful caretaker's eyes.

Keely motioned to the dust-covered floor between them. She asked silently, "Can you write?"

Miro nodded, grimacing at the pain that still lodged itself in his battered body.

"If you have questions," she breathed in a barely audible voice, "write them in the dirt. That way you do not draw attention to your awareness of all that's going on around you and I will be able to convince the overseers that you are not yet thinking clearly."

Looking to the side Miro scribbled out, "How are you here?"

Keely looked around and noticed no one was near. She leaned close to his ear and whispered. "I will lie beside you and look as though I am sleeping as I answer. Please do not think that I am being forward or offering myself to you. My master commands that I sleep by your side, and though he has forbidden all others in this mine from touching me, he has made it clear that you are to not only touch me, but I think he means for you to rape me as a way to humiliate me. I lie beside you on his command."

Miro turned sharply to face her at the word rape. "I won't," he mouthed, his eyes fierce.

Keely smiled. "Thank you," she whispered back. She lay close by his side and began to whisper into his ear.

"They're not my people. My mother was kidnapped from one of the villages on the border of the Vine Jungle. Her master, my father," she bit off in a soft, bitter whisper, "kept us in his house as household servants. My mother was his maid and one of his many courtesans. I was one of his many offspring. My father sold me off to Lord Garenal's family soon after my eleventh year to pay a debt. I was assigned to serve his younger sisters as a lady's maid. As I matured, I tried to hide from Garenal's notice, but I could not for long. He expected me to fall at his feet and swoon when he noticed me. He was offended that I did not welcome his attentions. As a punishment for not falling into his bed with a grateful spirit, he sent me here. He said that I did not appreciate my high estate. He told me that I would beg for his touch once I realized how truly honored I was to be his slave and welcome being in his house after I knew what it felt like to live as an ordinary slave."

Keely's eyes glazed for a minute as she remembered that day.

* * *

Keely pushed an errant blue lock of hair back behind the point of her ear as she bent over a stack of mending. Sewing several lose beads back on her mistress' fete gowns, jostled loose by during last night's dance in the courtyard filled her time now. Garenal entered the large bright sitting room where her mistresses took their lessons.

"Such a lovely thing," he said in an arrogant tone. He strolled over and sat beside Keely fingering the fine ivory cloth between his fingers. "I wonder how you would look in such a costly gown?"

Keely grew pale. Grasping for something, anything, to throw him off, Keely said, "It is too fine a thing for a soulless servant such as myself, most noble Garenal. My presence would soil it beyond repair."

"You discredit yourself, beautiful, little Keely. You are almost as blue as the rest of the Alma'Odela. I even see the spark of a spirit in your eyes. Perhaps not a full soul, but you are quite a fine creature." Garenal took the mending from Keely's hand and began to stroke her cheek. "I would take you to my bed and teach you the ways of pleasure, my Keely."

Keely froze as her master's hand trailed down her neck and to the buttons at the back of her simple dress. His touch made her skin crawl.

Thinking she was shy, Garenal leaned in closer, "Do not be afraid, little Keely. I will give you the greatest happiness."

He turned her roughly away from him and began to rip the dress from her back. Keely panicked and jerked away from him. Instinctively, she grabbed a nearby iron candle stand and held like a sword to keep Garenal away.

"What?" roared Garenal, enraged. "I offer you the honor of sharing my bed, and bearing children with my noble blood running through their veins, and you attack me? You ungrateful little wretch."

Keely saw Garenal draw magic to his hands. _'I'm as good as dead now,'_ Keely thought numbly, surprised at how little that thought bothered her. _'What more can the fool do to me?' _This knowledge filled her as she saw him raise his hand to throw a bolt of power that Keely knew would end her life.

"You monster!" she raged, no longer caring if she offended him. If she was to die then it would be as free from her masters as possible. "You are the soulless one. You are cruel and harsh and yet you claim to honor me by forcing me to endure your repulsive attentions. I hate you and all your kind for my slavery and your condescension."

Having a slave speak back to him was something Garenal had never experienced before. He had killed a great many for incompetence or slight errors in conduct, but this? This was beyond all understanding. "How dare you? You act like a spooked wild mare and show just as little understanding. Well my lovely steed," he said blasting the candle stand in her hands to ash. He continued to advance till he had forced Keely back against the wall. "I will break you, he growled, leaning into her. Garenal forced her face toward his. "And I will ride you whenever, and however I like, and you will beg for it."

Keely looked into her master's black eyes and she made a decision, _'If I have to die first,'_ she promised herself, _'He'll never take me.' _No longer caring what happened, Keely spat in his face.

Garenal roared in outrage and beat Keely into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Are you all right?" whispered Miro as Keely continued to be lost in thought.

Keely shook her head as if to clear it of those memories. "Yes," she whispered back.

Miro turned to face Keely. "I won't harm you," he breathed, his brown eyes filled with determination.

Keely looked into the face of this man and knew he meant just that. He would never hurt her. "Thank you," she whispered. "But for the sake of the guards, we may need to make it look that you are. If you don't, Garenal will learn his latest ploy to break me isn't working, and may allow others in the mine to touch me. Then I will lose all of my protection."

"I will do what is needful, Keely," Miro promised, "and I'm sorry."

Keely looked at this man with the earth brown hair and rich, warm eyes. He was so gallant and kind. _'If I kissed him it of my own free will, it wouldn't be bowing to Garenal's wishes. Not if I wish to kiss him?' _Keely's thoughts were confused. Without realizing it, Keely leaned in toward his face and stayed just few hair's width away from his face. Unable to take her eyes off his full mouth, she whispered, "Perhaps we'd better practice now."

Miro nodded slightly causing his lips to brush against Keely's, slightly parting them. In an instant, they were kissing each other tenderly, savoring each other.

It was magic. For that instant, Miro was not a slave, not a prince, nothing more or less than the luckiest man on Eternia. ?

Keely pulled back stunned. Her mouth was burning, and she could still taste this man on her lips.

"We will be free again, Keely. Somehow we will be free. I swear it."

The clang of a guard's staff sounded in the distance. Keely and Miro stilled instantly. The guard lumbered over and saw that the new slave had pulled Keely on top of him. Served the uppity wench right. She would learn her place soon enough. The master had promised that after she was broken, and he tired of her that he would return her to the overseers for their use. He would have to see that this slave had plenty of time to humiliate her.

* * *

"You will translate for this pathetic puny human," growled the overseer, sneering into her face. "And if you do not translate exactly as I tell him, Carl with tell me," he warned gesturing to an older male slave that used to run the slave pens for Garenal, before he was caught breeding with females without permission; he was the one slave in this mine with a perfect understanding of Miro's speech.

Keely nodded, her face cast down. Over the past several days, Keely had managed to get both her charge and herself plenty of time to rest and recover.

During that time, they planned. It would be a week before the taskmasters would shift them away from the mines for a few days to decontaminate their lungs from the dust of the Endareshi stone. Only the knowledge that the entire crew would die every three weeks without the break from the dust of the mines, forced the overseers to leave them locked in the slave chamber where they slept for a few days.

Miro was determined to escape, and Keely had decided that even if it meant her death she would do anything to be free of this place. With the help of this man, perhaps they could escape before that first resting period even began. In any case it would end the fear and constant dread of tomorrow. She would be taking control of her destiny once more.

"Tell that filth that you are his personal property till further notice."

Keely flushed lavender with pretended rage as she translated for Miro.

As they had planned during his recovery, Miro looked at Keely with a leer.

"I can see from his face that he gets the idea," laughed the overseer. "Now tell him as long as he makes his quota of ore each day he may take you into a corner of the mine and do what he wishes with you."

Keely shook with mock rage as she translated.

Miro said something the overseer didn't understand and them swatted Keely on the behind, sending the overseers and some of the crew around them into gales of laughter.

"Well," asked the overseer, his arms crossed.

"The slime wants to know what his quota is, so he can have me strip for him."

Laughter echoed in the chambers. Keely hid her faced in her hands hoping her shaking with silent laughter would look like tears. Let the fools think they were humiliating her. She would rest each afternoon in the arms of a man she was growing to care greatly for while they had to work harder to meet their goals.

"Let's see," said the Elven lord, fingering his lash. "Since this is his first day, I suppose a half a cart full will do."

"What?" protested Keely in mock horror. "You can't be serious. He'll be able to do that before the midday meal."

"Well," said the elf, removing his lash from his shoulder. He looped it in his hand and forced Keely's gaze on his hard black eyes. "You can consider this his welcome to our little family present. Now tell him little slut."

Keely began to cry, her anger over this situation consuming her. She nor Miro—no one should endure this kind of abuse. She translated for Miro. He grabbed her hand roughly and pulled her to the side of the cave closed to the shadows making sure that the others saw his hand rest on her rear, before the sounds of digging began.

"I'm sorry," whispered Miro in between strikes.

Keely nodded. "You did a fine job," she whispered. "Just enough to convince them and nothing more. Thank you."

They worked in silence for the next several hours. Miro took out his fury on the walls of ore, wishing it were the overseer and his assistants beneath his ax.

"Slow down, Miro," Keely hissed. "You will hurt yourself if you keep up at this pace."

Miro looked up at Keely, the black dust of the Endarishi ore streaked on his face by sweat, and nodded, his face grim.

An hour passed when the overseer came by to inspect their progress. "So you are ready for your time with the slut," chuckled the harsh taskmaster. "Keely, tell your 'lover' he may take you to the bathing chamber and enjoy you the rest of the afternoon."

Keely hung her head as she translated for Miro. The young prince grinned and asked as question in his native tongue.

"He wants to know where the bathing chamber is."

"Tell him you will lead him. Yikcan will accompany the both of you and will keep the entrance of the chamber guarded so no one may interrupt your little show for our newest guest."

The bathing chambers were crude and open. A small series of holes in pipes released water on one open end of the small cave there were no dividers no towels. Miro stood their for a minute wondering how they were going to make this sound convincing without degrading this beautiful woman he was growing to cherish.

"Make sure you throw your cloths out in the hall when you finish your show for your special friend, Keely. I wish to report to Lord Garenal personally that you have been obedient to his wishes."

Miro clenched his fist and his jaw began to twitch. There was nothing more he wished to do that beat this arrogant blue demon into the ground.

Seeing Miro's anger, Keely yelled at the overseer attempting to distract him. "Well did our master say you were allowed to watch?"

"No, not yet," he sneered, "but you never know what tomorrow may bring." He chuckled evilly.

Keely and Miro stood looking at one another for a long moment. They heard Yirkan began his pacing back and forth in front of their chamber.

"What are we going to do?" mouthed Miro.

Keely pulled the lever that released the water and threw herself into his arms. "I don't know," she whispered. "I know neither of us wants to do this but we may have to.

"No," he whispered back firmly. "I will turn while you undress. I will make lewd comments that I ask forgiveness for in advance," Miro said as he removed his tunic.

Keely's breath caught as she caught sight of his chiseled muscles. She ducked quickly to hide the desire in her eyes.

"Put this on when you are finished," he said, passing her his long tunic kicking off his boots. He walked under the water's spray still in his trousers.

* * *

Yirkan chuckled. It had finally gone silent in the chamber. But not before he was sure the little tramp had been put down where she belonged. He didn't need to understand the words of that frail, little man to understand that Keely had been completely humiliated. Her tears and moans of protest were music to his ears.

BREAK BREAK BREAK

Miro held Keely close to his side as they sat together on the far side of the bathing chamber. She shivered in his tunic and he held her even closer.

Miro began to stoke her smooth soft hair. "I'm sorry. I hated every moment of that," he whispered.

"You did nothing wrong," she whispered back. "But there's only a week more till the next rest period and then we can get out of here." Keely reached up tentatively and stroked his cheek.

Miro pulled her close in a kiss, his hands flowing through her hair. "I love you," he whispered as he began to trail kisses down her neck.

Keely pulled back, shocked. She wanted to tell him that he was just scared and lonely in a horrible situation. That he would get over these feelings when they both were free to live their own lives and make their own choices. But when she looked into his eyes all she could say was, "I love you, Miro."

He pulled her closer and their kisses quickly deepened. Keely's hands began to trail over his well-muscled arms.

"Put on your clothing tramp," ordered Yirkan. "The rest of the crew will be coming in for their showers and you will be taken to the healing chamber with your charge so you may continue your lesson in humility." The overseer threw her clothes in the cave. Miro turned away as Keely quickly dressed and then passed Miro his tunic. He was still adjusting his clothes when he strolled out with Keely walking beside him her head down and her hair hanging in her face."

Yirkan forced her tear-streaked face up to his. You will tell this creature that you enjoyed his touch and will welcome his attentions all night tonight. Then you will take him to your love nest in the healing chamber."

Keely translated for Miro in a despondent voice, and then gave a squeal of protest as he grabbed her and dragged her down the hall.

* * *

Miro and Keely lay covered in a threadbare blanket. He had removed his tunic and Keely had taken it and wrapped it around her like a towel, so any overseers that checked on them could assume they were naked under the cloth.

Keely was beginning to believe that being naked under the cloth with Miro wouldn't be the worst thing in the world but Miro was so noble. Every time she mentioned that as something they may have to do, he promised her once again that he would never treat her in such a vile manner. Fooling her overlords was becoming fun for both of them. Often Miro would pull her into a dark corner of the mine to kiss her soundly and hold her close. She would feign outrage or tears but Miro could feel her smile against his lips. His hands would hold her hands over her head just in case the overlords saw, but she was pressing herself into him as firmly as he was pulling her into himself.

As each day passed acting despondent and humbled became harder as her heart began to swell with love for this man who dug beside her. _'Only one day more,' _she thought—_then we can leave here forever._

That night Miro held Keely close and began to review the plan. "So I will hide with you in the crevice we found at the rear of the east tunnel, and remove your collar."

"Are you sure you want to do this? The penalty for removing the control collar from a slave capable of magic is death. I'm not even sure if I'll even be able to work my magic. I sat in on my mistresses lessons, but I never had the chance to practice it," Keely whispered back. She began to shiver from the cold.

"No but you said you practiced all of the chants and incantations with them till you knew them better than they, and you said that you knew you had to have some kind of ability because you felt resistance from the collar when you tried to use the meditations to call the magic to yourself," Miro began to run his hands up and down her back to warm her. "Besides, magic or no we have to try soon. I will be free or dead, Keely, and I will die before I willingly allow you to be harmed again."

Keely leaned her head into his chest. She whispered, "No matter what happens, Miro, I don't regret a moment we've spent together."

"Nor I," he whispered running his hands through her hair. "Keely, when we are free, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Keely pulled back to look in Miro's face. "I—are you sure?" she whispered shocked.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want you for my wife. Please say you'll marry me."

Reason struggled with Keely's heart. She knew that they were in a desperate situation and that their feelings could change in an instant when they both were free. They had only known each other for a little over a week. She knew that it would be foolish to rush into this—to promise a lifetime when she didn't even really know this man, but as she looked into his face there was only one thing she could only say. "Yes."

* * *


	6. Escape

A/N: I own nothing. Mattel owns it all. Whaaaaa!

* * *

Chapter 6—Escape

The dank cave walls rang with the clang of metal against stone. A dusty grey light barely illuminated the mine where the slaves of the Alma'Odela dug the coveted stone that fueled their forge's flames.

Harsher than usual, the taskmaster's whips and shouts echoed down the crude caves. Their already short tempers were as volatile and explosive as the ore they were mining when the smiths touched it with flame. "Is it just me are they more cheerful than usual? asked Miro as he hefted another load of rocks into the bin that he and Keely had been working on for the last several hours.

A thin layer of dirt on Keely's face was streaked with lines of sweat. "Routine," she whispered. She continued to dig. "We have to have a rest period ever three weeks or none of us would last a month. The swine work us extra hard just before rest periods to make up for the loss of production."

Miro's brow creased with worry. He threw his back into his work all the harder. His and Keely's quota had been raised as all of the others and if he didn't fill it he wouldn't be allowed to "humiliate" Keely today. "We have to fill this bin," he muttered to himself. _'Or the plan is ruined.'_

His back ached so badly that he could barely stand when Miro dragged a loudly protesting Keely down to the unused cave a mere half hour before their shift in the mines ended. When the echo of the overseer's derisive laughter had faded, they reached their destination and ducked into the small crevice.

For a moment Miro and Keely focused on calming themselves and slowing their frightened heartbeats. Miro groaned as he leaned into Keely. "Are you all right?" he asked. Miro was so tired, and he worried about Keely.

"Exhausted," she answered. "But I will be fine."

The sole light in this empty corridor was flickering as the battered lamp hissed and popped quietly in the otherwise silent tunnel.

"Ready?" Miro asked in a low voice, holding her close.

Keely buried her head in his chest. She wished she could just stay safe in his arms. _'Get it together, Keely,'_ she silently chided herself. "Yes," she whispered forcing her voice to stay strong. She looked up into his eyes. "I wish I could take this stupid collar off myself, then you wouldn't be in so much danger. If you get caught, you'll be dead before you can say the word free."

"Shhh. We won't get caught." Miro assured her. He leaned in and kissed her slowly and thoroughly, his fingers running down the sides of her neck.

Lost in the warmth of his loving kiss, Keely didn't even feel Miro remove her collar. Miro left a trail of kisses from her jaw to her ear.

"Got it," he whispered in her ear after, pulling back from their kiss.

"I hope this works," she whispered. Keely focused on meditations she had learned to assist her mistresses with their studies. Soon she felt magic flowing into her. She thought of the freezing spell her mistress were taught to do on flowers and food as a part of their household duites. She expanded and enhanced the spell as she saw them instructed as well and in a flash of blue light. Then they crept hand-in-hand down the tunnel and were relieved to find that all noise from the mine had ceased.

"It worked," whispered Miro excitedly. Racing toward the mine entrance, they saw the slaves and overseers still as though they were some eerie exhibit of lifelike statues meant to highlight the cruelty of the Alam'Odlea. The grabbed a few of the ore bags on the way out of the mines and continued to race up toward the main city above the mines.

Hours passed before they emerged from the labyrinth of tunnels in the mines to the entrance of the marketplace.

"We're here," Keely whispered throwing, her arms around Miro. He hugged her close. "I'm going to release the spell holding them in the mines now. They should work for another half hour before they stop production for the rest of the night. We have that much time to get lost in this crowd.

Miro nodded. "What about the mine dust?"

"Oh cleaning up by magic is an easy enough spell," Keely focused on her newfound skills and soon, not only were they both clean, but the ore sacks had been transformed to a servant's rough cloak. Keely pulled the hood low over Miro's face and looked up at him from beneath his. They were lost in other's gaze—both filled with worries and doubts.

"I'll need to look into your mind, Miro, to see the way out. I'll try to stay only where you have focused your thoughts."

"I trust you," Miro whispered.

Keely placed her fingers on his face and close her eyes chanting softly. Soon she was able to see the memory of his capture and saw clearly the way to the surface. Yet in her probes there was something else as well. Keely felt his passion and all-consuming love for her and his commitment to her. His was a dangerous, impulsive, reckless love. Unthinking and full of passion and fire. Keely had heard of love at first sight before but had never believed in it—until she saw the swell of emotion that flooded Miro's heart the first moment he saw her.

Such love was dangerous and unstable. She should resist it for both their sakes, but she could not help it as her passion and desire and newborn love flowed out from her in response. She had never been treated with such tenderness and respect before she met this man. He was intelligent, kind, brave, and noble in thought and speech. The memories that she waded through to find the way out of their captor's city showed her this to be true. The link they shared became a conduit for more than their memories, however. It tied their hearts to each other.

Keely and Miro melted against one another in a fiery kiss as they became fully aware of how deeply they loved each other.

Miro pulled back slowly and whispered, "Let's get out of here, my heart."

Keely nodded and led the way into the city her head lowered.

Miro and Keely walked past the shadowy empty outer stalls of the market place. Seeing a cart leaning near the alley full of provisions and ready to be shipped into the upper levels, they climbed under the tarp covering the supplies and waited to be taken into the city.

Within minutes, the cart was moving and less than an hour later it stopped. Using the magic lessons she never believed she would be able to use, Keely caused a nearby fountain to split, spewing water violently. All of the elves in the area and the servant pulling the cart ran to escape the spray of water flying everywhere. Keely and Miro snuck out midst the chaos and joined the others in sprinting away from the underground shower. Hiding in a nook between home facings, Keely dried their cloaks.

Miro showed her the sword and rope he took from the cart they stowed away on. "I'm not proud that I had to steal, but—," Miro began.

"You're brilliant!" she whispered, hugging him tightly. "I don't like stealing either, Miro, but we have to get out of here, and we will need these things. Besides that cart belonged to Garenal, and he owes us both."

Miro nodded, returning her hug.

"Now is the hard part," Keely whispered. We have to go up the main grove pathway. Past all of the great lord's houses. We will have to walk calmly as though we belong there and hope to avoid attention."

Miro nodded. They checked to see that no one was approaching and began their journey to the crowded streets of the overlord's streets.

Miro tried to swallow the fear and panic that flowed within him. More than anything we wanted to grab Keely's hand and run, but he knew that she was right. They passed lord and slaves of all ranks who simply ignored them. An almost unbearable half hour later, they were almost to the small cave opening that led aboveground. Keely stopped and looked around her quickly. Seeing no one looking their way, she pulled Miro behind a statue in an alcove.

"What?" Miro started only to find Keely's finger on his lips. She closed her eyes and soon their robes became ornate and beautiful.

Miro looked and saw that his hands were covered in long falconer's leather gloves. "Whatever you do, don't let anyone see you face," she whispered. Then they began the slow trip out to the surface.

Miro's heart leapt in his throat when he saw a group Lords returning. Seeing the lady's cloak around Keely they pressed into the side of the cave and allowed them to pass.

Miro and Keely continued to walk until they reached the spotlight of sun that shown from the entrance to the Vine Jungle. Keely grabbed Miro's gloved hand and they climbed up the golden daylight above.

Keely stared at the blue of the sky and was overwhelmed with a sense of awe, she began to cry as Miro walked up beside her. "It's beautiful,' she whispered. "I've never been allowed to see the sky before."

Miro smiled and took her hand. "We have to go. This place is dangerous." Keely nodded, and they walked resolutely toward the nearest cover.

* * *

"Do you think we've gone far enough to avoid elven hunting parties?" asked Miro several hours later, adjusting his cloak as he sunk lower beneath some brush.

"I'm not sure, but I think something a little less conspicuous would be called for," said Keely tiredly. "She placed her hands on their cloaks and soon they were a mottled green. Keely then fell forward onto Miro's back.

"What is it Keely?" the prince whispered in a panic.

"Must have used too much magic," she whispered as he took her in his arms. I don't know my limits yet."

"We need to rest a bit anyway he whispered, lowering her beneath the branches of the high hedges that surrounded them. They soon feel asleep in one another's arms.

* * *

Miro woke in a panic as he heard the sound of angry elvish shouts nearby. He started to move when Keely pulled him on top of her and mouthed the words, "Quiet, wait."

Miro nodded slighty as she began whispering the words of a spell. Branches were heard snapping in the far distance. The elvish voices grew into a frenzy. The sound of their feet pounded through the brush echoed through the trees.

Soon the flutter of birds overhead and the quiet breathing of the two fugitives still hidden beneath the leafy brush was the only sound to be heard.

"They're gone, I think," whispered Keely.

Miro nodded as he lifted her up to her feet. He pointed to the north and walked that way with her hand in his.

BREAK BREAK BREAK

"I can't believe I used to resent having to learn my mistresses' spells in order to help them study." Keely whispered to Miro as they were crouched behind a natural stony outcropping.

Miro turned to her with a wide smile on his face. "Very considerate of your masters to give you all of the magical training to be free of them. What is this? The third or fourth search party you've been able to sense and help us avoid with you magic?"

"Fifth," Keely whispered back "But who's counting?"

"I think that's the last of that party," whispered Keely. "Something doesn't feel right, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Maybe it's the fact that we are running for our lives and freedom in a jungle full of creatures that could kill us at any second," commented Miro, his eyebrow raised. He stood and reached for her. Keely chuckled as she took his hand but the feeling of danger did not leave her.

In spite of his joking Miro grasped his sword and they warily began to head out.

It was only a few minutes later when the crunch of the underbrush beneath Miro and Keely's feet was joined by several angry howls.

"Wolf hounds!" cried Miro. He thrust Keely behind him as he turned to see the gray shaggy creatures emerge from the tall ferns in front of him. The sword Miro took glinted in small shafts of light that filtered from above. As the smaller of the two creatures jumped toward them, Miro dodged to the side and shoved his sword through the creature's neck. Taking advantage of his moment of distraction, the other gray shaggy predator raced toward the prince. Miro managed to twist away from the teeth but the large, claw-covered paw raked down his side cutting him from chest to naval, even as he buried his sword in the beast's side, killing it.

"Miro!" Keely cried as she scrambled over to him. "Why didn't you just let me freeze them?" she breathed. Miro looked up at her, struggling for breath.

"Ancients, please let me remember that healing spell," Keely begged as she placed her hand over his chest and began to mutter words in elvish.

Slowly, the wounds knitted themselves together. When all that was left Miro's wound was an angry red line, Keely collapsed onto his chest.

"Keely?" he rasped. "Are you all right?"

"Tired," she answered. "Just tired."

He looked over to his side where the two hound's corpses lay and knew that they must leave. _'We've got to get out of here before scavenger's arrive. No doubt that the search parties will be right behind them.' _Though his head was spinning, Miro lifted Keely into his arms and carried her.

* * *

The prince and his lady trudged up a rise a few hours away from the site where a pair of hounds attacked them. They were just about to top the rise when a branch snapped nearby. Ducking behind an overturned tree, Miro and Keely heard several lords speaking to one another in the gully below them. She smiled hugely in spite of her fear when she heard what they were saying. Miro looked at her quizzically. She gazed down at the dirt beneath them and wrote out, "They're worried. Found the wolf hounds. Think we may already be in the villages. We're close to the border. A village a day's journey. They are trying to decide if it's worth a check." Miro grinned as he read these words.

Soon the party left. When they could not see them any more Keely whispered. "They think the wolf hounds killed one of us because there's no blood trail. They are fairly certain that if it's me, I won't risk going to the village with my skin color and that I will be easy to find if they place some warning spells at the borders of the jungle and if it's you they doubt they could find you again because you look like ever other soulless one they've taken since they hadn't gotten around to branding you yet. We just need to avoid their spells of detection and any other of the jungle's creatures and we should be free. They don't know that I know how to control any of my magic, so we should be able to avoid their warning spells."

Miro nodded. It was growing dark. "We need to go now, Keely. When it gets dark some of the more dangerous predators come out, and we need to be on our well on our way before we have to camp for the night."

With a nod, she followed him back into the jungle.

* * *

Just after sunset, Miro tied the rope to his sword and threw it like a grappling hook into the branches of one of the taller trees. Keely climbed up with Miro behind her. Once they were both in the tree they pulled the rope up in behind them. Keely and Miro climbed up into the higher branches till they emerged above the canopy. Miro looked up, relief flooding him as he saw the stars for the first time in over two weeks. Keely used her magic with cloth to turn their cloaks into a sturdy tarp. Miro used his rope and sword to create a wide hammock tied between two of the larger and sturdier branches.

"They're beautiful," Keely breathed in wonder as she lay beside Miro in their treetop cot, looking up at the stars.

Miro nodded as he wrapped his arms around her. Keely continued to stare, transfixed at the night sky. "I've never seen them before, but mother used to tell me the stars were just like diamonds against fine black felean cloth. They're ever more beautiful."

Her hair, now loose of its tie, fluttered in the treetop breezes.

Miro smiled as he pressed a kiss into her lovely blue forehead.

"Do they really have names, Miro?" she asked, looking up at the sky.

Miro nodded. "Do you see that group over there?" he asked pointing up to a group of smaller stars that were shaped to look like the larger ones in front of them.

"Yes," she said, tracing the points of light with her finger.

"Those are Lisawana and her children. One day we will follow them when I take you to my home."

Keely turned to face him. She smiled as she ran her hand down the planes of his strong masculine face. "Do you know how wonderful you are?" she breathed.

"Hopefully wonderful enough to deserve you, oh queen among women."

Keely looked into his face, "Do you know how unbearably handsome you are?"

"Nowhere near as handsome as you are beautiful," he whispered cupping, her cheek in his hand. He drew her lips to his hand soon they were lost in a passionate kiss.

* * *

The next morning Keely awoke with a start. Miro was already awake and motioned for her to remain still.

Noises rang out below them. Only this time, the language was not elvish. Miro broke into a grin. Miro gestured for Keely to stand up on the branches and undid the rope that held their hammock atop the canopy. He held the material up and Keely reformed them into cloaks. Miro clung to a branch as he maintained his balance and fastened the clasp. He carefully climbed to the limb that Keely was clutching. He tied the rope securely to the branch above them and let it fall to the ground beneath them.

"Who goes there," shouted a man, aiming a freeze cannon at Miro as he descended with Keely, her face hidden in her hood, hanging onto his back.

"Miro, son of Amandor of Eternos," Miro whispered, throwing back his hood and staying in front of Keely as she further withdrew into her cloak."

"Well, it is an honor, high—," the man started.

"We've no time for conversations," Miro interrupted. "Even as we speak there are some of the blue elves' hunting parties searching for me and my companion. I assume you have transport?"

"Aye," said the man Miro now recognized as one of the merchants he overheard from the inn at Illgar. "And we'd better be moving quickly if the demons are about. Come this way to my speeder. It isn't much but it will get us back to the border within the hour."

"I will pay you well for your trouble, merchant," Miro promised.

* * *

Keely stood apart from the others and Miro passed a piece of paper to the man. "Wait until you hear that I have returned to Eternos to seek the redemption of this from me personally.

"And here's an extra coin to buy your silence," Miro whispered, pressing one of the gold crowns he'd gotten from selling his elvish sword to the local smithy in the merchant's palm. The sword maker exclaimed for near a half an hour that it was the finest work he'd ever seen before he'd given Miro the small price of five crowns the prince asked for it. Miro looked back to where Keely stood. He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat when he remembered how close he came to losing her. "Where is that justice you told me of earlier?"

"Right down that path," said the merchant, "And I thank you."

Keely watched as the transport that had brought them here disappeared around the bend.

"Miro, where are we?" Keely asked drawing her cloak around herself nervously.

Miro lifted her face to his. "We are near the house of a justice who will be able to marry us. Then we will go to the cabin I rented from the smithy I sold the sword to."

Keely looked away. "But what about my appearance?"

"That is the best part, Keely. This man is blind. He will never see our faces."

Keely and Miro walked down the overgrown trail. Wild roses surrounded them lovely pink starflowers grew in patches about the stone path that led to the soft blue wood door of the Justice's homey cottage.

Miro squeezed Keely's hand, and knocked on the door.

"Coming," sounded a voice from inside the room. "Welcome," said a jovial looking man with white eyes. "How may I help you? Legal advice, marriage, or some of the kingdom's best plums."

"Marriage," said Miro eagerly.

"My favorite type of business," said the man, clapping his hands. "And because it is so, I will throw in some of those tasty plums as wedding gifts."

Miro and Keely looked at each other with wide grins on their faces, amused by this man and thrilled that they would soon be wed.

"Well come in, come in," said the justice. I have some tea brewing while and we can discuss what you would like to do for your vows.

The three sat around his nut brown table and listened to Justice Gracen talk about all of the beautiful vows he'd heard spoken in the past.

Keely sipped her tea and looked out at Miro, love in her eyes.

Miro looked back lowering his cup of tea. "I thank you for your tea, and your stories. I am sure Keely and I can think of something wonderful to say to each other now."

"Eager to get on with the marriage, eh?" asked the old man with a wink.

"Well, yes," Keely said, noticing her soon-to-be husband's blush. "Life is so short. Don't you think we should do what we need to cherish the ones that we love as they should be without undue delays?"

"She is a wise one," agreed the justice with a chuckle. "If she's half as beautiful, as she is wise you've made a fine pick m'lad."

"Aye, she is," said Miro.

"Then let's not be wasting more time. If you will join me at my hearth, we can begin."

Miro and Keely moved into the main room of Justice Gracen's house. Miro gently removed her hood to reveal her face. He ran his fingers through her soft blue hair.

"We are gathered here this day—,'

"Wait," Keely interrupted.

"What?" asked Miro and the Justice—both voices filled with concern.

"Just give me a minute," Keely wrapped her arms around herself. Softly she began to mutter some incantations and her rough slave robes and cloak became a simple white dress and soft brown cloak. She then took Miro's arms in her hands and used her magic to change his homespun clothing into a fine tunic of ivory with gold embroidery and pair of leggings in the same ivory like the elven lords wore. His boots became the high black suede the elves preferred and his cloak was as blue and soft as Keely's skin."

"I'm ready now," she said, smiling at Miro.

"Then we begin again," said the Justice, "we are here today because two hearts have chosen to beat as one. Here today I ask both of you to share with me the reasons you wish to be wed."

Miro looked deeply into Keely's eyes. He reached up to cup her face. "You are beautiful beyond any other maiden I've ever met, but you are so much more. You are brave, and strong. You have courage and intelligence, and I never more wish to be apart from you. You are a queen among women, Keely, and I would be the most honored man on Eternia if you would be my queen."

Keely looked up at Miro, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I love you, Miro. You are the hero that brought me from a dark and vile place into the light of your love. You've freed me from so much, and more. You are brave, and wise, and kind and a man worthy of all respect. I seek no other happiness than to live my life as you wife."

"Based on your compelling and heart-touching declarations, I now happily join you as man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Miro leaned in and kissed Keely pulling her into his arms. One kiss led to another as they were lost in the love they felt for one another. How long they continued to kiss, neither one knew when a sound interrupted them.

"Hmm, hmm," interrupted the justice.

Keely and Miro reluctantly pulled apart. Justice Gracin was smiling as he held out a small basket of fruit. "May your union be as sweet and fruitful as the vines that bore these plums."

"Thank you,'said Miro, placing a coin into the Justice's hand.

Miro and Keely walked hand in hand out of the Justice's little home. Keely placed her hood back over her head.

"Where to now, my husband?" Keely asked.

"There's a cabin in near enough the Vine Jungle that most stay away from, but it is three day's north of this village near the village of the merchant, Hobbs—the man who gave us a ride to this place. He's going to bring us supplies in a few days. No one will see you till I can bring you home. And when I do, you will never fear anyone threatening you again."

"How will we get there if it's a three-day journey?"

"Hobbs said he'd send a friend of his, a fellow merchant, to give us a ride tomorrow morning. For tonight, we will be staying at the inn. I have a quick letter to send with a courier and then I take my wife to bed."

* * *

Keely shivered in anticipation as she looked around the tavern room. Miro was speaking to the barkeep about a room. She waited in the corner at the table he'd found for her and hid beneath her hood and cloak.

Miro strolled over to Keely with a grin on his face. "Come, my bride. Our room awaits."

Keely followed Miro up the stairs into the room at the end of the hall.

Miro opened the door and stepped aside so Keely could enter.

The room was a soft green with a large wood bed covered in a warm quilt of golds and purples. The curtains were drawn and made in the same pattern as the quilt. A basin and pitcher stood on a stand by the door and a small chest of drawers sat on the opposite end of the cozy room.

"I'm sorry it's not much," apologized Miro.

"It's beautiful," said Keely, throwing her arms around Miro and kissing him fiercely.

Miro returned her kiss with equal passion, so that not another word was said for the rest of the night.


	7. Back to Reality

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the loooooooooong time between updates on this one. I've been completely engrossed in Reunions with Evelyn CMB for longer than I really want to think about. (And we're still not done writing it...Sheesh!) **

**I'll try to do better with this in the future, but till then the same disclaimer applies. I don't own He-Man, Miro any MOTU characters and I make no money from this work. Just enjoyment.**

* * *

"I want no more excuses, Shonor. I want my son," shouted King Amandor. The tracking beacon attached to the SkyWind led to the Vine Jungle and you've had troops searching for weeks, yet you find nothing."

The Captain said nothing, as he stood with his eyes on the floor and his fists clenched.

"Well, have you anything to report?" Amador demanded, his eyes flashing.

"Your Majesty, my troops report that they have found no sign of the prince. They have said, however, that they have encountered shadow beasts, giant serpentoids, wolf hounds and many other predators during their search. Several of my men have been disabled permanently, and one almost died. If sorcery cannot heal him, he will be paralyzed for the rest of his life. I assure you, Highness, everything is being done to find the prince."

Amandor strode over to the window, his arms crossed. "What of the guards checking the local villages?" he asked, his voice tense.

"They have found nothing at this point. Troops are scheduled to visit the villages of Carlstat, Grenen, and Penet in the next few days."

"Send more guards," the king began.

A knock echoed through the large office.

"Enter," commanded Amandor. A page entered with a sealed scroll in his hand.

"This just arrived by courier, Highness," said the lad. The page lowered his head in a bow as he held the parchment out to the king.

"Thank you," Amandor said, taking the message, "You may go."

The boy had just shut the door behind him when King Amandor unrolled the scroll and began to read.

* * *

_Dear Father,_

_I am sorry I did not return the day I promised. I had an accident__and was thrown from the SkyWind. _

_It was __difficult to find my way out of the jungle. And I was injured. I am resting and recovering from my ordeal now. I should be home in the next few days. _

_There was one to whom I owe my life. That person does __know who I am and will not know until I am free to escort this one to Eternos. This brave soul should be treated as the dearest friend to the crown. _

_This person rendered me aid without knowing who I was and with no desire __reward. I pray you are ready to bestow all due reward and respect to this person, without whom your kingdom would be without an heir._

_With Deepest Respect,_

_Miro_

* * *

Amandor face split with a wide grin. "It appears my son was able to rescue himself." The king's face took on an expression of pure delight. "It seems that your survival training served him well. Thank you, Shonar."

Captain Shonar relaxed just a bit. He would never hear an apology. This compliment was the closest he would come to one. It would have to do.

"You are dismissed, Captain. Call back your troops."

The warrior turned and walked resolutely out of the King's office.

Dessamira entered only a few moments after Shonar left. "Have you heard anything?"

Amandor smiled and walked over to his wife. He placed the scroll in her hand. The carefully controlled queen of Eternos broke into tears of relief as she read her son's word. He was safe, and he was coming home.

Amandor pulled his queen into his arms and embraced her as for just a moment they laid all other pretense, duty, and rank to be grateful parents who found their lost son.

* * *

--

"Come here my queen," said Miro, pulling his wife of a week back into their bed.

"Miro, really," We've been abed for over half the day. I must be out."

Miro began to nuzzle her neck.

"Miro," Keely said firmly.

"Hmm?" he asked, trailing kisses down her throat. His fingers were buried in her dark blue locks.

"Miro?" she repeated less firmly this time.

Miro groaned good naturedly. "I'm still recovering from my ordeal in the Vine Jungle, m'dear. I need my rest."

Keely chuckled and pushed him gently away. "You are well enough recovered from that, my love. Your weariness is all your own doing."

"I don't know," Miro teased. "I think you've been assisting me in my exertions."

Keely nodded solemnly, her face barely hiding her mirth. "Which is why I must be up. Else you will never cease being weary." Keely ducked another attempted embrace from Miro and darted into the small kitchen. Keely pulled a robe around her and took a pot from the wooden rack hanging from the ceiling near the small stove. She quickly began clattering around the kitchen.

Miro leaned on the door frame. He was grinned like a schoolboy receiving his first flying belt. Keely was so graceful and lovely. Even in the midst of a mundane task like preparing a meal, Miro was struck by how beautiful she was. He luxuriated in the peace of this for a moment. Keely reached from the bowls she was carefully arranging on their small table to tuck a strand of her silken hair behind the point of her ear. Miro grinned as he thought of that lovely hair circled by a tiara worthy of the princess of Eternos.

His happy mood faded a bit as he stood mesmerized by her every movement. It _had _been a week. His letter to his parents arrived three days ago, no doubt, but Miro knew he had to return to his home. No matter how it pained him to do so. He shuddered as he thought of the reception his mother would give his lovely bride.

'_I have to tell her,'_ Miro thought sadly. _'And sooner would be better than later. I must be back at the palace or I run the risk of being found and dragged back by a party of my father's guard, and I cannot bear the thought of my Keely being dragged about by rough soldiers, or worse, separated from me.'_

Miro stared out the open window onto the peaceful field just beyond the small farm they had rented the day after he and Keely married. He sighed. _'If only we could be simple farmers. I wish we could just stay here forever.'_

"You look like you have the weight of all Eternia on your shoulders, my love,' Keely observed as she put a basket of steaming bread on their table. She walked over to Miro and placed her hand on his cheek. "Tell me. What's wrong?"

Miro reached up and tenderly took her hand in his own. "Let's sit down, and we'll talk of it over this wonderful meal you've made."

Keely smiled and led her husband to the table, her fingers still twined in his.

* * *

Keely looked up to see Miro eating with relish. That wasn't new. Miro had told Keely how much he adored her cooking, but something wasn't right this time. Yes, he was enjoying her cooking…At least that was what appeared to be going on, but his enjoyment did not reach his eyes, and there was a hint of worry that Keely could see from the slight hunch of his shoulder and the way Miro seemed to be avoiding her eyes.

"I know something's wrong, and pretending to be so engrossed in you meal that you have forgotten what you were about to discuss with me won't work," Keely finished placing her fork down on her plate and looking up expectantly at her husband.

Miro reached up and began to rub the back of his neck. "Keely, I don't know where to start."

"At the beginning."

Miro chuckled mirthlessly. "I love you. I know I can never live without you."

"That's not the beginning."

"For me it is. Keely, I didn't know what I was living for before you. I was trapped in a life of duty. Given things and the promise of position in exchange for obedience. I must return to that life of duty, and I fear for us, for you."

Keely's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Miro reached out and grasped Keely's hands. "No matter what. I will not be parted from you. You are my wife, and I will not let them come between us. I'll lay aside the crown first."

"Crown? Miro, what are you talking about? You can't possibly mean that you are a—"

"Prince. Keely, I am son of King Amador of Eternos. I am his only heir."

Keely gaped at her husband. _'A prince. How can he be a prince?'_ Keely's mind began to spin as she recalled the infighting and political machinations of the upper houses in Odilhan, the elven city that she lived enslaved within her entire life.

"But surely if you are of such high rank." Keely's mind raced. Rank in her world meant power, intrigue, and alliances. "Are you even free to marry me, Miro?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm free to wed or not. We are married. It is done," Miro stated, pushing his plate to the side. He reached for Keely's hand, but she jerked it away.

Keely pushed herself up from the table and turned to look out the window.

"Would you really consider laying your crown aside for me?" Keely whispered.

Miro quickly made his way to his wife and held her by her shoulders and he looked into her eyes.

"In a heartbeat," he affirmed, "for surely my heart would cease beating without you."

"And there are others? Fair and just people who can take your place? Whom can be depended on to lead your people just as you would?"

Miro paled. Yes, Things were growing more stable now with his father's war victories and his mother's diplomacy. And yes there was a greater sense of community amongst the kingdoms of planet Eternia, but that stability, in great part depended on the royal houses remaining in control of the nobility. The loyalties were passed down from father to son in those noble houses.

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Miro's stomach when he thought of the fact that neither his father nor mother had any siblings, and the barons, duchies, and lesser kings and queens would all make a play for the throne. Sadly, the lords and lesser kings and queens could be depended on their loyalty to the Crown of Eternos and no more. It was Amandor's rule that had united these factions so tightly, and his mother's diplomacy that cemented those bonds.

Miro thought of those closest in line. The Baron Handerson: a gambler and a cheat. The Lady Delia, with her poisonous tongue—she'd start a war within the first three months of her reign with her biting words. Then there was Evert. He was a man of war through and through and would most likely focus on building up the army at the cost of everything else.

Miro shook his head. There were good people who could take his place, but none of them were in close enough of a position to take the throne and all of these candidates were too good to take it by force.

"No? No?" shouted Keely. "There is no one else who your people can depend on and yet you abandon them? Your people for me? No! You will not do this, Miro. How can you even think of doing this?"

"If my father wishes it, he can annul our marriage, and I cannot be separated from you, Keely. I cannot," Miro rasped. "The only way is if I step down."

"No," Keely denied. "I'm not worth an entire people. I'll have the marriage annulled now. I won't be responsible for this." Keely broke down .

Miro pulled her into his arms. "No, Keely. There has to be another way. There just has to."

"How do you think they will react to me?" asked Keely tremulously.

"They will be angry. Not at you but at me. They seek alliance with another kingdom. To strengthen Eternos, but I don't need a marriage alliance to strengthen my kingdom. I can make it wealthy and strong on my own with hard work and wise counsel.

Miro began to rub Keely's back comfortingly. I used to think that my parents would give me the choice of my bride if I proved to them that I could strengthen the kingdom and prove myself a wise and profitable prince.

Keely pulled back and looked up into Miro's eyes. "Do you think you could earn your right to choose?"

"I've already chosen, so what does it matter?"

"No one knows of your choice." Keely began. "Oh I hate this, but perhaps for now, it would be best to keep our wedding hidden. For a short time only."

"What good will that do?" asked Miro with agitation growing in his eyes.

"It will give you time to earn the right to bring me home as your bride without endangering the good of your people."

Miro stepped back, his hands still on Keely's arms. "I do not like this."

Keely put her hand on Miro's lips to stop his protest. "Nor do I, but if nothing else, it will allow you time to further prosper your kingdom before you turn it over to other hands. Please, Miro. I couldn't bear the entire population of your kingdom suffering for our love. Promise me you'll try."

Miro gazed at Keely. "Only for a short time?" he asked."

"Only for a short time," Keely agreed.

* * *

"She's the one," Queen Desamira shared with her husband at lunch the day Miro was to return.

"The red head or the blond?" asked Amandor in a bored tone of voice.

"The blond. She is Princess Ranay of Erstwiren."

"If you say then so shall it be. I'll have the contracts drawn in the morning and you can begin your preparations."

"Husband, do you know anything of your son? I do not wish to force his hand," Queen Dessamira replied.

"What?" asked Amandor. "The boy will wed whomever we choose. There is no need for diplomacy here. It is his duty as prince to wed for the benefit of the kingdom and the production of an heir. And so he shall."

"Calm yourself," Dessamira replied. "Yes, Miro will wed Ranay, but the alliance between our kingdoms will only be stronger if their marriage is one that is more that one of political benefit. It will do well for both our kingdoms if this union is entered in with a cordial feeling surrounding the nuptials."

"I suppose you're right, m'dear, but if the boy takes too long, I will force this marriage."

"Do you really underestimate my abilities so that you think I cannot bring Miro and the Princess Ranay to a companionable relationship?"

Amador laughed. "I suppose I should not. Are you planning to lure our son into a trap?"

"I think of it as seeking the best possible future for him and our kingdom,' sniffed Dessamira disdainfully.

"And yet I can't get the image of a bittersweet spider out of my head. I see you, my queen, spinning a web to capture our son, and our lovely princess as the sweetsap you place at the center of your trap to ensure your victory."

Dessamira smiled widely. "I choose to take that as a compliment, husband. After all, those creatures are the most cunning hunters in the Evergreen forest, tiny though they are."

"And lovely jeweled creatures in shining silken webs. Almost as lovely as you," said Amandor kissing his wife's hand.

* * *

Miro held Keely close to him as the sun rose above the swaying trees of the vine jungle. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured in her ear.

"It won't be for long. You will secure the future of you people and then we can be together."

"I'll return every chance I get. And I'll send supplies with the trader that brought us her in the first place. He knows of you, and I can trust him to keep our secret."

Keely nodded. Her eyes were bright as she ran her fingers through Miro's dark hair.

"Are you sure the wards you set will keep the Alma'Odela away?" Miro asked. He cast a worried glance toward the jungle so close to their farm."

I'm sure, Miro. They won't be able to get anywhere near us. I set the spells in stones so they do not need to draw power from me anymore either. These wards are permanent."

Miro crushed Keely back to his chest. "I'm so glad you paid such close attention during your mistress' magic lessons."

Keely chuckled and returned Miro's hug.

Miro pushed her back by her shoulders. "Remember, should anything go wrong. Use the communicator I left. And should you feel threatened in any way come to the palace."

"I will. I promise."

Miro slowly mounted the wagon and snapped the reigns gently. He waved to Keely and headed over the rich green hills to leave the small farm that, in his heart, was his true home."

* * *

The sun peeked King's Hill turning the clouds a brilliant orange and pink in the crystal blue sky. Miro sighed with relief as he reached the crest of this final rise on his long journey. He shook his head as if to clear it. He was grateful now that he decided to travel by wagon the entire way. Yes, it added more time to his journey, but it also allowed him time to think. And Miro found that he had much to think about.

Plans and strategies filled his mind. Plans that even his mother would have approved of, he thought sardonically. These plans would prosper his kingdom and add allies if he played his hand just right. As much as it pained Miro, he would be spending a great deal of time working on diplomacy with his mother and the tutors she provided. A mastery of his mother's considerable diplomatic skill would be crucial in enacting his ideas to prove that he was enough on his own, and worthy of choosing his own bride.

Miro pulled a hood over his head. He didn't want to be recognized in the street as the errant prince. He wanted to continue to mull over his goals, breaking them down into steps and prioritizing each goal clearly and systematically.

Miro laughed bitterly as the though struck him. He had never a stronger desire to so completely fulfill his duty to his kingdom before he met his Keely. Now he was sure he would outwork his mother and father together in his efforts to fulfill his royal duty.

Miro lost himself for a moment in the noise of the marketplace just outside the city proper. He heard the hawkers selling their wares and kept his head low as players made their way through the crowded city streets.

Soon the crowds thinned out and Miro could only hear the clip clop of his horse's hooves on the back livestock entrance to the palace.

Miro hopped down from the wagon after he had reached the gate, and typed in his pass code on the small glowing control panel. The door slid open with a whoosh and Miro walked the horse into the stables.

"Who's thar?" asked Antelo, the stable master, hustling toward the doorway, a bag of oats slung over his beefy shoulder.

"It me," Miro called.

Antelo dropped his bag. "Your Highness. We've all been worried sick about ya! Are ye well?"

Miro grasped the stable master's arms bracingly. "I'm fine. I crashed over the vine jungle, but someone very kind helped me. It took a while for me to be well enough to return." Miro bit back his grimace. He hated lying, but this was only for a short time, he promised himself. Just for a short while.

"Antelo, this horse has served me well and needs care. Can you groom and feed it so I can return it to its master?"

"Of course, your Highness. I will at once."

Satisfied that his mount would receive proper care, Miro squared his shoulders and left to enter the palace and face his family.

* * *

"Here?" asked Ranay, pointing to a circle of a diagram.

"Yes, there is where the enchanted fountain will be placed. You and Lady Sarah will be able to finish these preparations by this evening?" Dessamira asked in a tone that didn't allow for failure.

"Yes, my Queen," Ranay replied with a gentle grace. "All preparations for Prince Miro's ball will be completed around midday."

"Excellent. Run along now," Dessamira commanded with a wave of her hand.

"I don't understand why you don't just let the servants handle the preparations. You let them do it for events that you plan," Amandor commented distractedly as he scanned another set of financial reports.

"Because the ladies that come to my court come seeking training in the ways of great households and kingdoms. They must all do these things for themselves first before they can effectively choose and oversee servants who will perform up to highest standards. Much the same reason your father saw to it that you were trained in the art of warfare, when you leave the fighting in the hands of your soldiers."

Amandor grunted acknowledgement as he once again tried to lose himself in his work. Dessamira sat in her chair across from Amandor and began to check over her guest list once more when a knock sounded on the door.

Dessamira stood to receive their visitor when the door swung open.

"Miro!" Dessamira cried. For a moment Dessamira was not the Queen of Eternos. She was a mother who just reclaimed her lost son. But that moment ended quickly as she pulled herself back behind her mask of calm. She reached out to hug her son, but somehow that hug felt stiff and forced to both mother and son.

Miro hugged his mother back unhappy at this pretense of motherly concern. Miro was quite certain in his own mind that his mother was at least as relieved that she did not have to find a replacement for her son in the succession as she was to see her son alive

A moment later he felt his father slap him on the back heartily.

"I suppose I should beat you, my boy, for scaring us so," Amandor groused. He at his son appraisingly and then added, "But I suppose that can be forgiven. This time. Considering you employed your survival training with such diligence. Well done, boy."

Miro looked at his father and pretended to smile at his father's praise. _'He praises me sound like a horse with enough sense to run from a burning barn.'_

"Thank you, Father." Miro said attempting to sound sincere. He managed more enthusiasm as he thought of enacting his plan to earn his bride, and addressed his father once again. "I only hope I can use mother's training as effectively when the time comes." Miro turned to face his mother. "I would like to speak with you at your leisure about increasing my lessons in statehood, economics and diplomacy."

Dessamira and Amandor looked at one another for a moment. "Are you sure you're feeling well, boy?" asked Amador.

"Better than I've felt in a very long time father. My time in the jungle has helped me to prioritize my life. To realize what's truly important, and right now that is the well being of our kingdom. I would like to do all I can to promote that."

"It seems we have even more to celebrate tonight than your return to us," Dessamira noted with a sly smirk. "It seems your adventure has helped you grow up in many ways, young prince."

"Celebrate?" asked Miro, his brow furrowed. Fighting off courtiers was the last thing he wanted to deal with now. And if his mother remained as condescending as she had been up till that point, extended time in _her _presence would be a chore not a celebration. "But surely there is much to be done, and a celebration…"

"Is exactly what is required. Our kingdom has its heir again, and we have our son. Tonight we laugh, feast and dance," informed Dessamira firmly. "But," she added with a twinkle in her eyes, "I will be sure to share my political insights with you tonight, as the occasion arises."

Miro bowed slightly to hide his grimace. For a few weeks his life had been horrid, and then for a few more it was pure bliss. Both states had seemed surreal. With a soft groan, Miro accepted the fact that he was now entirely back to reality.


	8. Plans

**Author's Note. Don't own MOTU, and I make no profit from this fic. But Miro won't leave me alone till his side of story is told. Cranky old man.....:p**

* * *

The nobles swirled around Miro like some strange swarm of flying flowers. He sighed, happy that Lord Renard had cut in on his dance with the Lady Starena. She was a nice enough girl, and from the looks of her gown and hair, one of his mother's favorites, but she was tiresome. Her inane nattering reminded him of his lessons in discourse. It was as if she'd memorized all "acceptable" topics to address with royalty and was going down her mental checklist. Miro sensed that she was more applicant for the position of Princess of Eternos than dance partner. And that was a position that Miro had filled in his mind and heart from the moment he first laid eyes on Keely.

Miro shook his head. He had to focus, and dreaming of his new wife would not help that. Nor would planning his next outing to stay with her. He walked to the refreshment table, hoping his mother would allow him a few more moments of peace before he was drawn back into his "celebration."

He was sipping a glass of wine filled from the magical fountain in the center of the table when he saw a group of ladies in very simple gowns move around the edges of the rooms.

"Pardon, Your Highness," said a lovely blond woman.

Miro moved away from the table as the lady placed new glasses around the fountain.

"Princess Ranay?" asked Miro. _'Poor girl,'_ he thought. _'If my mother has her serving tables then she must not be in favor. I'll have to warn her later if I see Mother tearing away at her confidence.' _

Miro wondered at himself for a moment. Why did he care? Oh, yes…he remembered now. She had been kind to her servant and unassuming. She seemed like a caring woman.

Ranay curtseyed. "Yes, Your Highness. I hope the ball meets with your expectations."

"It is fine," he said without enthusiasm.

Ranay's face fell slightly.

Miro's eyes narrowed a bit. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh it's nothing, Sire. Your mother placed me in charge of arranging it. I had hoped it would be pleasing to you."

"It's not that at all," explained Miro quickly. "Your work is fantastic. It's just that I've barely gotten settled in and Mother throws this party. I'm afraid I'm still very affected by the experiences that occurred after my crash." Miro sipped his wine to hide his grin as he thought about the happiness that was the true effect of the time he was "lost."

Ranay's face took on an understanding look. "Oh I am sorry. That you must make merry after you have endured, no doubt, great difficulty."

"It is merely another requirement of my position," Miro said, not completely hiding the bitter tone in is his voice. Then he turned to her and smiled sheepishly. "Thank you for your concern."

Ranay curtseyed once more. "I bid you good evening, my Lord, and I thank you again for your quick help for my maid Janice."

"You are welcome," Miro said with a nod of his head.

The Princess Ranay melted away in the crowd just as Queen Dessamira walked up beside her son.

"I take it, with the ease with which you released Lady Starena into the arms of Lord Renard, that you do not find her appealing," Queen Dessamira observed.

"And I assume by the fact that you have not found me before this point, that you are not that concerned that I do not find her appealing," Miro stated as he took another sip of his wine.

Queen Dessamira nodded and filled her own glass from one of the flowing ribbons of rich red wine.

"Starena is a nice enough girl, but not very original, as I'm sure you've observed. She is, however, unfailingly loyal. That is why I wanted it to appear that I had chosen her for you. As you can see, many of the wealthier lords are now taking an interest in her since she has been seen on your arm for half of the evening. I have no doubt that she, and her loyalty, will be placed securely in the home of one of our more well-to-do allies very soon.

"You _are_ skilled in what you do," acknowledged Miro grudgingly.

"You say that as though it's a bad thing," his mother said with a delicate sniff.

"It doesn't have to be," Miro said.

"Is there something troubling you, son? Other than the ball," asked Dessamira shrewdly.

Miro shook his head. He was not going to willingly give his mother ammunition with which to harm him.

Evidently realizing her son was not about to part with any important information, Dessamira changed the subject. "The Princess Ranay of Erstwiren did a fine job arranging this ball. Don't you think?"

Miro nodded again. "Is there a reason you placed the work of servants in the hands of a princess?" he asked calmly.

"Indeed. Erstwiren is a tiny kingdom. I doubt I can make a very high match for her with so little for a dowry. It is likely that she will not have a great host of servants as we do to arrange feast and balls in her holding when her time with me is through. It makes sense to allow her the chance to learn these skills while she is here."

Miro raised in eyebrow in surprise. "I am glad to hear that. I was concerned that she had somehow fallen from your favor."

Dessamira snapped open her fan and began to fan herself gently. "Concern, son?" she asked wryly. "I assure you that I do what I do only and ever for the good of the kingdom. Any ladies who, in your words, 'fall from favor' do so by deeds that show them to be disloyal to us, or to their own people. And why would you be concerned for this princess, anyway? Forgive me; it seems out of character for you.

Miro looked at his mother, his mask in place to hide his disgust. "She seems like a genuinely kind woman—that is a rare trait among the ladies of your retinue. I don't like to see the kind harmed."

"And yet in our position we see the kind suffer every day," observed Dessamira sadly.

Miro shook his head slightly. She sounded convincing—if he didn't know her, Miro would have been touched by his mother's concern. As it was, he remained unmoved.

Dessamira raised her chin slightly. "I promise you, son. I have nothing but the best plans possible for that young woman." With those last words she returned to the courtiers gathered around her husband.

Miro shook his head again. In the greater scheme of things it did not matter what happened to that young woman he supposed. The only thing that mattered to him was Keely--his heart and his life.

* * *

Ranay cleared away the last of the dishes late into the night. Her maidservant Janice met her at the kitchen door.

"Really, my lady," Janice scolded, though with a smile. "You should have let the servants finish this up. It's near three in the morning."

"And they work much harder than I do. I would not deny them rest when I can lie abed till past noon if I wish it."

"Ah, but you won't. You'll be up early and be busy all day," scolded Janice.

Ranay shrugged. "It's better that I keep busy, and if I'm really tired I won't dream…" Ranay trailed off for a minute. "I won't dream of home or Randal."

Janice dropped her spoon. "Aye, my lady. I know you miss your home and your brother. I'm so sorry." She wrapped her mistress in a tight hug.

"I am too. I miss them so much," Ranay said, her voice tremulous, "But serving in Queen Dessamira's court gives me a fantastic chance to secure a better future for Eastwiren. If I can marry one of the greater lords here, we'll have access to money to develop industry for all of our people and that means maybe we can hire a sorceress with enough power to heal Randal's injury. If he can walk again…well, I have to try."

"I know you do," comforted Janice. "But please, Lady. Do not marry a cruel man. Even if he were Prince Miro himself."

Ranay laughed. "I'll do my best. And I'm fairly sure, I'll never have a chance with good Prince Miro—if ever I've seen a more confirmed bachelor before, it's him."

Janice and Ranay's laughter blended with the clinking of the dishes as they put away the last remnants of Miro's great ball.

* * *

Keely finished putting away the last of the many gifts Miro had sent her. Another stack of books and bolts of the finest material. She sighed. The tiny cabin was overflowing with Miro's generosity.

But it wasn't the gifts that made Keely smile. It was the notes within the parcels. Notes telling her of how much he loved her. About how each night his heart flew to her in his dreams. She laughed as she read of Miro's mother and her political maneuvering. It was worthy of one of her former elvin masters. She would write back to him, telling him of ways she'd seen others do similar things in Odil'han, and of the various ways others worked through political mine fields similar to those Miro's mother so expertly set.

Keely sighed sadly as she saw the merchant who delivered to her ride away. She hoped it would be soon, as Miro promised. "Please," she whispered clutching his latest letter tightly in her hands. "Let it be soon."

* * *

Miro signed off beneath his father's signature and the matter was dealt with. The party dispersed and each person was led by a servant to the nearby tables to feast to the new alliance.

"I must say," whispered Amandor, "that negotiation was worthy of your mother, Miro. I am very proud of what you accomplished this day."

"Thank you, Sire," Miro whispered back.

"You do well by your people," Amandor continued softly. He took a drink of the amber mead in his cup. "But there is one other thing you must do, Son."

Miro tensed. His father had been hinting that he should be married by now. It seemed that now would be the time when his father pressed the matter. Miro decided to head him off.

"Father, I am not ready for the responsibility of a wife. I still have much to learn of diplomacy and leadership. I cannot focus as I should if I must focus on keeping a queen happy."

"You do not need to keep her happy, Son," growled Amandor, "merely keep her with heirs for our kingdom and you have done your duty to the crown."

Miro's stomach turned at the thought of siring children with anyone but Keely.

"I know taking a wife is a great step, Son, but you should reconcile yourself to it, and soon. I will allow you a few days to come to grips with the end of your bachelorhood, but when you return, the process of finding your bride will begin."

Miro nodded, his face impassive. He ate nothing else at the celebration and at the first opportunity he exited the great hall in search of a horse. He rode as fast as he could, his heart clenching. It was as though even the beat of the horse's hooves called out her name. Kee-ly—Kee-ly…

An hour later he threw himself into the cabin and swept Keely up into his arms. He knew he needed to talk to her as he claimed her in a passionate kiss, but the time for talking, he decided as he threaded his hands through her hair, was later. Much, much later.

* * *

Ranay rushed to her window. "Oh, Janice, come look. It's a perfect day for riding. Do you suppose Queen Dessamira might allow us some time at the royal stables?"

"It can't hurt to ask, my lady. I know another day bound in the solar with gossip and embroidery is not how you would like to spend you day," Janice observed as she tucked the last pillow neatly on Ranay's bed.

"I don't mind the embroidery so much as the company. I really am grateful that I am not one of my Lady's favorites. It is like beauty pageant in there at times. Only worse, because they all seek a marriage for status only. Not love." Ranay grew quiet and sat at the bench at the end of her bed.

"Oh, now," said Janice, coming to embrace Ranay. "You are not like them."

"But I'm seeking a marriage of position. I have no more hope of love than they." Ranay's eyes grew bright.

"Yes, it is a marriage of position you seek, but you seek it not for status, or monetary gain like many of those pampered young princesses. You seek someone who will help our kingdom and your family. I cannot believe for one moment that all that is good in our world would allow you to find someone you could not care for. And I cannot imagine any man cold-hearted enough that he could not love you." Janice's arm tightened around her mistress.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way," whispered Ranay. "Father was going to marry me to a good man. A man with a good heart and a wise head. Someone who would care for me and the kingdom with true devotion and affection." Ranay swiped at her eyes. "Now I must sell myself to the highest bidder."

"No, you do not! My lady all you have to find is a prince or lord with enough. Just enough to ensure the well-being of our people and Randal. Your mother made me promise to keep you from any arrangement with a coarse or cruel man and I mean to keep that promise," Janice said as she turned her brown eyes into Ranay's blue ones.

Ranay gathered herself quickly. "With you as my protector, I cannot fail. Come on, my dear friend. Let's see if we can take those rides."

* * *

Miro rode back to the palace on the horse he'd purchased just outside of Grenen. He turned toward the stables without conscious thought. His mind was still filled with the blissful two days he'd spent with Keely at the small farmhouse he now thought of as home.

He barely missed the two riders exiting the stable grounds to the fields. Miro grasped his horse's reins tightly and held on as his mount reared.

The two riders turned once they were a safe distance from the spooked horse. It was the brunette who spoke first. "What do you think you are doing?" she scolded. "You rode directly into our path."

"Peace, Janice. Can you not see who is riding that horse?" Ranay cautioned.

"I don't care if it is King Amandor, himself, that fool rider should pay attention to where he is going," Janice snapped.

Miro laughed. "She is right, Princess. And I apologize. I'm afraid my mind was on happier things."

"P-prince Miro?" gaped Janice. She became very red in the face and lowered her eyes.

"Now," said Miro bringing his horse up beside Janice's. "You were merely concerned for the benefit of you lady. You meant no disrespect. And I suppose after my foolish move, a bit of disrespect may have been deserved."

"Thank you for your understanding," Janice said lowly.

"We both do," added Ranay. "And I'm glad to see that it's not just us who thought it a fine day for a ride. Good day, Prince Miro."

"Princess," returned Miro with a nod. He chuckled as he entered the paddock. He liked those two. They seemed real in the midst of all of his mother's pretty little puppets. He would have to see what he could do to ensure that whoever his mother had planned for this princess would make her happy. She was a nice young woman after all. Too nice to be placed with some of the more power-hungry and manipulative families.

* * *

Miro stepped out of his shower and dried himself quickly. His talks with Keely raced through his mind as he dressed. There could be no avoiding of the process of finding a princess, but he could use all he'd learned from his mother about manipulation and all he'd learned from Shonar about strategy and knowing one's enemy to end these potential engagements before they could go forward much further. He would only have to do this for a short while. Perhaps a year before he would be able to prove his worth to his parents and secure their permission to choose his own bride. He was sure of it.

Miro smiled as he remembered all the ways he and Keely had discussed bringing more wealth and prosperity to the kingdom. The farmers would grow much more food with the special fertilizer blend made from the Sangriy Leaves found on the outer edge of the Vine Jungle. Leaves that could be easily picked by mechanical means that endangered no people. These leave would give a huge boost to the size of the crops if the results the Alama'Odela had gotten over the years was any indication. And then the Ranic cane that Keely was raising. Given to cattle, it prolonged lifespan and increased fertility.

"Soon, Keely," he said aloud as he dried his hair. "Soon we'll be together again."

* * *

"I spoke with Miro a few days ago," said King Amandor as he sat beside his wife in her solar.

"About what?" she asked as she scanned another list of materials shipped into the palace that day.

"Leave that work for the steward, Wife," Amandor said impatiently. "I have urgent issues to discuss."

Dessamira arched an eyebrow toward her husband. "It never hurts to have a second pair of eyes scan these reports. And I gather much information when I see the tribute given from our various holdings."

"Our holdings and its tribute will mean little if our son does not soon produce an heir. And he seems loathe to do his duty to the crown," ground out Amandor.

"You discussed _that_ with him?" asked Dessamira, a frown on her face. "Husband, please, place some faith in me. Miro will be wed and soon to a woman fit for the crown. But, pray, do not speak to him of it again until I say it is time. I would rather keep our son in the industrious state of mind he has set himself in of late, and I'm sure talk of marriage will bring back to him that rebellious spirit that even Shonar could not fully train out of him. Trust me dear husband. I know our, son, and I have a plan."


	9. Decisions and Deceptions

**Author's Note: I own nothing. Just doing this for fun and the occasional review. :)**

Chapter 9

Miro ran a hand through his hair. He'd been over his presentation four times already, and was sure he was ready.

It had been a year. A year since he'd married his Keely. He was ready now, Miro realized as he scanned the last of the documents he was going to share with his parents. Today he would show them the combined gain he'd brought to the kingdom through his late nights and his constant study, and then they'd have to stop arranging tours of the palace with the latest belle from his mother's court.

Miro smirked. Keely had taught him well in the art of "seemingly unintentional" insults. Miro had successfully offended or annoyed even the three most persistent ladies to the point that they now ignored him as they milled about in his mother's court, yet he'd done it with such care that no lasting harm would befall future alliances with whichever kingdom they would unite. Miro hoped that Keely was right and that he could pass off his lack of courtesy to the mistakes of a callow youth. Regardless, the part of the kingdom entrusted to him had prospered greatly.

Miro slid open the hidden compartment in his desk and pulled Keely's letters and pictures out and gazed on her beautiful face and loving words.

"Soon," he promised. "You'll be here with me."

* * *

Ranay stood staring out her window at the gardens below her. She twisted the ring engraved with her family's seal around her finger.

"My lady, you wouldn't believe what Lady Edella was saying about poor Princess Starena. It seems her lord was…" Janice became quiet as she noticed that Ranay hadn't moved from her place at the window. "My lady," she called a bit more loudly.

"Oh!" Ranay started. She turned to look at her friend. "I'm sorry Janice. My mind was elsewhere."

"I could tell," said Janice as she laid her basket of mending on Ranay's bed. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Ranay began, but then stopped. "Yes. Oh I don't know," Ranay said sinking into her nearby armchair.

"Did something happen when you last met with the Queen?" asked Janice.

Ranay nodded. "She offered me a position as her aid."

"Well, that's wonderful! That would be a fantastic opportunity for you, my lady."

"I'm not so sure. I would have to commit to five years service, during which time I would not be able to marry. She would pay me well for my services, and even offered to send a magician to heal Randal, so of course, I'll take this position, but, Janice, do you think this means she thinks I'm not worthy of a noble marriage? Is there something wrong with me?"

"Of course not," Janice assured her. "It's an honor to be chosen as Queen Dessamira's aid." Janice bit the inside of her cheek as she said this. She couldn't let Ranay know that she shared her princess' fears. She took a deep breath as she continued. What was wrong with Queen Dessamira. Ranay was wonderful and should have been engaged at least six months ago.

"But not one lord or prince has even looked at me since I've come here," Ranay fretted. "I know part of it is all of the extra training that the queen has given me since I am from such a small kingdom, but I thought I was at least pretty enough for someone to ask me to dance at one of the balls we've attended these last few months."

"Pshaw, you've had many dance partners, my lady." Janice said, hoping that Ranay wouldn't mention that they were mostly honored staff of the lords who were visiting rather than the Lords themselves.

"Yes, but none from the higher houses. I need this alliance. The kingdom does."

"Maybe not as much as you are worried about," said Janice thoughtfully.

"With Randal healed, he can seek a wealthy ally and then you will be free to seek your own true love as your father first promised he'd seek for you."

Ranay shook her head sadly. "I told you of how Randal is close to his nursemaid. He told me in his last letter that he loves her more than life. He asked her to marry him and she has agreed. He wrote to me last to ask if I would give his my blessing. He wouldn't pursue this if I was against it. I told want nothing more than his happiness."

"And what of you?" demanded Janice. "What of your happiness?"

"I will find it in the prospering of my people." Ranay relaxed slightly. "Yes. That is how I will find my happiness. By knowing that my actions will bring joy to my subjects and my dear brother."

Janice's eyes welled up with tears. "It's not fair. You sacrifice too much."

"Do I?" Ranay asked soothingly. "I am clothed in finery, and allowed much leisure time. I am educated beyond the wildest dreams of the average Eternian, and I am loved by my parents, my brother and my dear friend, Janice. And I have the ability to give happiness and hope to crowds of deserving villagers whose taxes have fed our family for generations. I think my sacrifice is minimal. I must do what I know is right, Janice. And find my happiness in the good that flows from my deeds. Not in dreams that may never come true."

Janice shook her head sadly and dabbed her eyes with the corner of her white apron.

"Now don't be sad," Ranay comforted. "We are going to be going home in a few days, and when we get there most likely Randal will be walking again."

Janice sniffed. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"So will I," said Ranay with a genuine smile. "Now let's tackle this mending together, then we will both be free to go for a ride this afternoon."

* * *

"I don't believe you," roared Miro. "After all I have shown you, your one question, your one concern is that I have not yet shown interest in a wife?"

Amador stood in a rage. He opened his mouth and was about to roar back when Queen Dessamira gently placed a hand on her husband's shoulder and guided him back to his chair.

"My lord husband," began Dessamira gently as she turned a stern gaze on her defiant son. "If you would allow me, perhaps I can lead us to a peaceful resolution of this debate."

"There is no debate, my queen. He is my son and I," growled Amandor pounding his desk and sending papers flying everywhere, "am his king."

"And in spite of this momentary lapse in courtesy Miro has been the model of an obedient son in all areas except this one. You do agree with that assessment, my lord?" Queen Dessamira asked, her voice gentle and soothing.

"I do," Amador agreed roughly. "But at the rate he's going, we will have to adopt an heir!"

"Then perhaps we should see if, in this one area, we can reach a compromise," Dessamira said smoothly, hiding her smirk behind her fan. This was working just as she'd hoped.

Amandor looked as though he swallowed something bitter as he gazed at his wife, but he nodded even as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Miro watched with dread and his mother turned to face him. "Do not think for one second, my son, that you have fooled me. I know full well that you have found ways to cause any lady even remotely interested in you this past year to lose interest in you." Dessamira snapped closed her fan and tapped it in her open palm. "I have watched you play the naïve warrior's son in the presence of the pacifist princess of Garnalden. I have also seen you play the callow prankster with the serious and sanctimonious Lady Sanwan. For the Princess of Enteland, you played a weak and often cloistered scholar, knowing full-well of their need for an alliance with a kingdom well-versed in warfare. And those are merely the ones that you fended off by focusing on the kingdom in questions needs. I'll not even start listing the host of young women you have used low and personal slights upon. I've had several members of my retinue request a return to their home kingdom after the discourteous treatment you've given them."

Dessamira walked up to her son and raised her steely gaze to his. "I can only assume that, for the level of mastery you showed this year, and the complete loss of any diplomacy you know now, here in this room, that you expected us to just forget this one aspect of you duty?"

"I do not deny the need for providing an heir, Mother," Miro shot back more sharply than he meant to. "I merely would like the choice of my bride to be left in my own hands."

"Absolutely not," stated Amandor, stonefaced.

"If I do as well in all of the benefit of the kingdom and in its management, and if I am so skilled in diplomacy, would it not be a fair assessment that I could be trusted with the choice of my own mate?" Miro's faced was flushed and his fist clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. His expression was hard and fury burned in his eyes.

"Not at the rate you're going. What lady have you sought to know better?" asked Amandor.  
"Your mother places acceptable choices before you very often. There are probably a fair number of fine choices now serving in your mother's retinue. You have choices, but what this kingdom does not have is the promise that any of us will wake up tomorrow."

Queen Dessamira nodded in agreement with her husband. "Miro, this kingdom needs an heir."

Miro bit down on his tongue. He was determined to get himself under control before speaking again.

"However," said Dessamira, "your father and I acknowledge that we cannot make you marry before your thirtieth year. A little over eleven years from now. We are willing to make you an offer."

Miro arched an eyebrow at his mother, his arms still crossed over his chest. "I'm listening."

"Regardless of the fact that traditionally our kingdom has had heirs by the time the current crown prince was just twenty years, we would rather not force this," began Amandor. "And by we, I mean your mother." Miro fought to hide his grin at his father's disgruntled expression. "Your mother seems to believe that a five-year limit should be allowed in which you have time to 'search' for a worthy bride whose alliance will strengthen and further unite our kingdom. You will not be pressured to settle down during this time, provided that you continue to prosper our kingdom as you have shown us now."

Miro relaxed just a bit. Relief began to flow through him. At least he had more time to build his case for his choosing a woman of no noble title and with no kingdom to unite with his own.

"Thank you, Mother, Father," he said, not quite meeting their gazes.

"You are dismissed for now," said Amandor.

Miro nodded curtly and turned to the door. He walked out grateful that he would be going on a two-week camping trip with his beloved in a few days. For at least that short time in his near future he could be concerned only for himself and the only woman he would ever choose for his wife.

* * *

"Randal," cried Ranay and she raced off the ramp of her transport and threw herself into her brother's arms.

"Whoa," Randal cautioned as he stumbled to regain his balance. "The sorcerer the Queen sent did heal my legs, but I'm not steady on them yet."

Ranay leaned back, though still gripping her brother's arms tightly. "But you are walking again! Oh, I'm so happy." She wrapped her brother back in a crushing embrace.

"Perhaps you can let go long enough for me to see my daughter," teased a man's gentle voice beside them both.

Ranay let go of her brother and rushed into her father's arms. "Father," she mumbled into her father's chest. "I've missed you so much."

"As I've missed you, my brightheart. Your brother will need to go back to the palace. Your mother has fittings scheduled for his wedding garments. But I wondered if you would like to walk out with me to see Dusty?"

"I would love to see my mare," Ranay said happily. She waved at her brother and retreating maidservant as she and her father turned toward the passageway that led to the stables.

Ranay was running a brush down her sand-colored mare with a contented smile on her face. "Oh but, I've missed home," she said contentedly.

"And we've missed you," said her father, King Liam. He pressed his lips together for a moment. "Ranay," he finally said, his voice somewhat hesitant.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure about this appointment? I don't want you to do this just because of Randal. Is it what you want?"

Ranay turned around to face her father. "I want to serve my people. I think that this position is the best way to do that for now. And with Randal well and able-bodied again and able to help you, when five years have passed we will have a clearer idea of what our kingdom can accomplish on its own and we'll know where I should be looking for a suitable match. I am sure if I share those details with Queen Dessamira, she will assist me in finding the right alliance."

"You are a true princess, my love. Putting your people first always. I am proud of you." King Liam said, his eyes shining with pride. "But I worry for you."

Ranay straightened up hooked the brush on a nearby rack. "Father," she said with a smile, "So many of my dear ones lately have said what I already know you will say. I know that the situation we find ourselves in means that I might not have the good fortune of a happy match that you and mother have or that Randal and his fiancée Tamra have. But I have also seen matches that seemed blissful at first glance fall into ruin. I don't know what my marriage contract will bring, but I have learned that you find your happiness by your own choices and actions, not in the adoration of another. I will be happy, Father. I will find good to do so that whether my betrothed lord is a kind man or a fool I can be content in the knowledge that I do well and am a blessing to others. It is what you and mother have taught me."

King Liam pulled his daughter into a strong embrace. "I pray each day that you will find someone worthy of your good heart to love you entirely."

"I already have someone like that," teased Ranay. "You, Mother, and Randal."

* * *

"I have missed you," Miro whispered into Keely's hair.

"I've missed you too," she whispered back sadly. "I take it from your demeanor that things did not go well with your father."

Miro drew back and shook his head. "I have been given a five-year grace period during which I may choose a suitable bride, but it must be approved by them. I can only hope that my actions in the next few years will prove to them that our kingdom doesn't need an alliance. Oh Keely," Miro groaned sadly. "Just come back with me now. Come back with me and let the consequences fall. I don't wish to be parted from you for another day."

Keely pulled away from Miro. "Miro, I need you to try. Just a bit longer." Keely looked away and began to play with her fingers. "Y-you don't know how much I want to throw caution to the wind and go with you, but I can't. Not now."

"But they will never change," Miro said. "And if I know I will never convince them then we might as well face this sooner rather than later." He used one finger to lift Keely's eyes to meet his own.

Tears began to stream down Keely's face. "Miro, people hate my kind. What if someone doesn't care that I'm your bride. What if they think I'm some kind of witch who has bewitched you and I must be destroyed for you to be free?" She began to weep in earnest.

"What is wrong?" Miro asked as he stepped to face his wife once again. "There's more to this than you're telling me."

"Miro," Keely choked out, tears streaming down her face. "I need my introduction in court to be smooth and easy. Not for me. But for our…our child."

"Our child?" Miro gasped.

Keely shifted nervously. She wiped her tears away quickly and gave him a tremulous smile. "I know we never talked about when we wanted to have a child and usually I was able to cast the contraceptive spell but when you surprised me last month, I didn't….we didn't have time to think about much before…."

"Keely this is wonderful!" whispered Miro pulling her into his arms. "And just think," he added a sparkle in his eyes. "We have two glorious weeks to make plans to ensure my child is welcomed home as the royal heir that he or she will be. And I will spend any moment we are not planning adoring you."

* * *

"So the lad has gone?" asked Amandor as he settled in at the dining table.

"Queen Dessamira daintly placed her napkin in her lap. "He has. I have to compliment you, my husband. You played your part well."

King Amador nodded. "You are a good teacher," he commented. The king lifted the bottle of wine chilling next to their private meal and looked to his wife.

She lifted her goblet and he filled it. "I have secured the agreement from Priness Ranay's parents this evening. She will be in my service for the next five years. I have no doubt that by the end of that term Miro will make his choice. Which just so happens to be our choice as well," Queen Dessamira practically purred.

"To a successful alliance and a well-laid trap," chuckled King Amandor as he raised his glass.

Queen Dessamira smiled demurely as she touched her glass to her husband's. "And of course, she added, "our son's freedom of choice."


	10. Love or Duty

Ranay dabbed her eye with a linen handkerchief made in the colors of her brother's wedding. "Are you okay, my dear?" asked her father.

"I'm so happy for them," she answered with a sniffle.

"And I'm so proud of you. Without your service to Queen Dessamira none of this would have been possible.

Ranay leaned into her father's affectionate squeeze. "I still worry about you," he said tenderly as he leaned his chin gently on her head.

"In truth, so do I. I'm not sure for what reason Queen Dessamira has taken such an interest in me, but I worry it puts power above things that are really important."

"Now, child," her father comforted. "I know our queen can seem intimidating and in truth is very astute at arranging the political climate in her kingdom's favor, but it is a just kingdom under Amandor's leadership and always the first to ride forth to protect any land being threatened."

"I know, Papa," Ranay said in almost a whisper. "But sometimes I worry she'll send me off to marry some princeling in a distant ice kingdom just to see to it that the kingdom always has fresh ice sculptures for her latest gala."

Ranay's father hugged her closer. "You can always come home. I won't make you stay in service if you want to come home. We'll find a-"

"No!" interrupted Ranay. "I have to remember what you and mother have taught me. Being a princess isn't about finding happiness in my circumstances but in my duty."

Ranay leaned into her father's embrace and caught her reflection in a crystalline mirror. Her blond hair cascaded from her silver tiara in golden ringlets. Looking over the dance floor she caught her brother and his new bride swaying gently to the ballad the minstrels performed.

"I have a larger place of service than my dear brother. I chose it with all of the possible pitfalls and in the strangest way have accomplished more for my homeland than I ever could have hoped," Ranay said quietly.

"But you no longer seem happy, my love. Is your service so burdensome?"

"No…maybe…It's just the not knowing. The feeling I'm some cog in a greater machine and knowing exactly out of control I am of the path I walk. And I'm not sure I trust the queen. She's done well for others but she seems to keep holding me back, and I fear her. She has something in mind for me. I'm not sure I'll meet her expectations when the time comes."

Renay took a deep breath and clenched her fists. Once again she looked over at the mirror and schooled her faced into a mask of peace and strength. _I will do this, and soon the fear I've driven from my face will leave my eyes as well._

* * *

Miro rode his steed up toward his home with a broad smile on his face. His time with Keely celebrating their soon-to-be child had been marvelous. They had gloried in their love for one another, and in some quieter moments discussed names and dreams for their little one.

Miro knew he should begin thinking through his plans for prospering and growing the kingdom, but his heart was light and he was loathe to leave the warm comfort of the love and hope that surrounded him like a soft blanket.

Ranay chewed absently on her lower lip as her transport circled Palace Eternia. She was resolved to do her duty, just as she had discussed with her dear father, but there was something about Queen Dessamira that made her wary. She was sure she had won her favor in some way or another. She had seen what happened to the princesses and ladies that lost her favor quite clearly, though she was sure few others noticed. But the Queen was an elaborate planner and treated all of her retinue like players on an invisible board of societal chess.

Not knowing her place in that game worried her. Pawns could be discarded without an afterthought. _No,_ thought Ranay. _She's put too much time and resources into me for me to be a simple pawn. But what then?_ Ranay shook her head.

It didn't matter. She was a princess, and she had committed to a time of service under a powerful and cunning queen. The best she could do would be to learn quickly and well. She determined she would also seek the queen's good regardless of the queen's plans for her. It would be the right thing to do.

Miro was shaken out of his pleasant remembrances by the sound of ladies' laughter. He took a deep breath and steeled himself to deal with another possible petitioner to become his bride.

He calmed at once when he saw the princess Ranay and her maidservant Janis turn the corner.

The princess and her maidservant made a small curtsey and greeted, "Prince Miro," in tandem.

Miro returned their greeting with a slight bow and they parted.

Miro thought about those two young women as he made his way back to his study. He did have much to accomplish, but with the agreement Princess Ranay's parents had made, he doubted she'd be any less busy than he would be. For a moment he truly pitied the poor girl. He had no idea what his mother was grooming her for, but he hoped it would be something that befitted one of the few decent princesses he'd met during his mother's long practice of grooming the gentry of any kingdom, duchy, or manor that could be in any way, shape, or form, influential in the betterment of Eternos.

* * *

"We again thank you both for the opportunity to serve your great household," Ranay said with a curtsey her maidservant mirrored.

"And we look forward to working with such a noble young princess and a loyal and discreet maidservant," Queen Dessamira returned with warmth.

With those words the two women from Eastwiren left the presence of the Queen's suite.

"I see little guile in that child," commented King Amandor, coming round the corner of the solar bookshelves where he'd waited to get a closer glimpse of the woman his queen felt worthy of her son.

"That is because there is none," Dessamira replied with a smile at her husband's puzzled face. "I'd be willing to bet that you expected me to find a wife for my son that was exactly like me in mind and temperament."

"Aye, I cannot say I expected anything else."

"Ah, but constructing truly worthy matches is in seeking what characteristics are needed to create a stronger whole. Miro has learned much of political maneuvering, and he, like you, is an excellent warrior. The area I fear he is weakest in is his sense of duty."

"Now how," began Amandor angrily.

"Peace, husband, I pray you," Dessamira said demurely.

Amandor took a deep breath, crossed his arms, and waited.

"Miro does take his responsibility to our kingdom seriously. And he does well by it. But he has no love of it. His accomplishments are all to achieve something for himself—lately his choice of a wife, but if we gave him that, what else would he want next?

"Amandor, Miro works hard for his own purposes, not the good of our people. Ranay, however is in all ways what a princess should be. She is a committed servant to her people. She loves those she aids and is kind even to those who are catty and biting in their comments to her. I know she is bothered by such things, but I have had her watched carefully, my husband and she only shares these complaints with her maidservant—who has ever been discreet and a credit to her mistress. She has placed herself entirely in my hands and though she has said nothing to anyone but her maid, she knows I am not all I appear to be on the surface. She knows, yet she willingly places herself in my hands for the love of her family and her people.

Queen Dessamira turned to look out the wall of glass that looked down on her favorite garden view. Amandor marveled at his still comely queen. She was cunning, and he was beginning to see her strategy fall into place masterfully.

Queen Dessamira turned back to meet her husband's deep blue eyes, "Miro needs someone to help tie his heart to his people. And he will never listen to anyone who he suspects as being less than forthright. Her loyalty will be something that will draw him to her, and her honesty will open his ears to her words."

"I am truly grateful my father saw fit to choose you for my wife," Amandor replied taking Dessamira's hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. "You are wiser than my three top generals."

"I'm glad you've acknowledged the fact," Dessamira replied with a playful smirk.

Amandor looked down on her with wry grin. He smacked her on her behind. "Off with you then, General. An alliance must be forced."

Dessamira grinned over her shoulder as she walked away, "All in good time, my king, all in good time."

* * *

Miro sighed as he looked down at the swirling colors on the ballroom floor. He was loathe to go down. Yet he had to admit that his mother had waited an entire four months since his return from his "camping trip" so he shouldn't be too annoyed at this latest required fete. He adjusted the medallion containing the family crest so it sat in the center of the fur trim of his jacket.

"What do you know," teased Janis. "The guest of honor made it. He was only 30 minutes late this time."

Ranay shushed her friend playfully. "I'm glad, because I only planned enough extra food and drinks to last for an hour without the prince's presence."

Janis laughed lightly. "We may have had to go drag him down ourselves if he hadn't shown up soon."

"Don't I know it," Ranay agreed with a giggle.

"And just look," pointed out Janis. "He's surrounded by the loveliest ladies in the kingdom, present company excluded, of course."

"Pshaw, Janis," replied Ranay. "I'm merely pretty." She sighed. "They are elegant."

Janis turned to her friend. "You really must have your vision checked. If you were attired as those ladies, and not this simple green frock, and had ladies braiding your hair into elaborate golden cords, then you'd outshine them all."

"And how would I manage the party, and see to it all the guests are cared for if I stood out so much amidst the others? Remember, this party is not my "coming out.""

Janis sighed.

"Now don't start that. We've only been here in the queen's service for little over four months. My time will come."

"Of course, milady," Janis said, clearly unconvinced.

* * *

Miro strode into his room and stripped off the ornate jacket and tunic he'd danced in all night. He flopped back on his bed with a grin on his face. Ah, if his mother had researched those lovely ladies she'd sent upon him well enough she would have known about the Princess of Frostspire. After realizing she looked about as happy to be dancing with him as he did with her, he pulled her aside. She admitted she had a sweetheart back home and was only here because her father was trying to get her to marry for the advancement of the kingdom.

It was in that sheltered nook they cooked up a plan. Miro told her only that he had no wish to marry any princesses anytime soon, and they agreed that for now they would appear to be courting one another. After a period of time they would stage a public and truly hideous argument and her suitor would be nearby and would challenge the Prince to a duel to first blood. By the law of the Ice Kingdom, a man who fights for to protect the honor of his princess would be raised to the position of protector of the realm, and thereby become eligible to marry the princess. And they laughed together as they re- entered the ball, thus solidifying their kingdom's alliances once she took over the throne, her true love at her side.

* * *

"Oh did you hear?" gasped Janis as she raced into Ranay's chamber.

Ranay dropped her embroidery and came to her friend's side. "What is it that has upset you so?"

"You know well that the Princess of Icespire and Prince Miro seemed well on the way to their nuptials."

"Of course, as does the entire kingdom, and they are quite happy about it," Ranay said.

"Not anymore," Janis said.

"What?" Ranay asked, shock on her face.

* * *

"He did WHAT?" bellowed Amandor.

"Calm yourself," Queen Dessamira said placing a hand on her husband's arm. "If he hadn't done this thing soon, I would have intervened. She wasn't the right match for him, good though she was, and her kingdom is of little interest to us."

"But to insult the lady so in public was, was-" sputtered Amandor.

"Was a well-played act and much practiced," Queen Dessamira said, almost proud.

"You vex me woman. Speak plainly and tell me how my son's acting like a vile knave fit for the stocks is a cause for fatherly pride."

"I've known since before the Princess of Icespire was invited that her affections lie elsewhere. I wasn't sure where until this incident, but now I am quite sure Miro and this princess conspired to appear much infatuated with each other these past months to keep them from having to entertain anyone else's advances. I find it odd that a yeoman of her kingdom just happens to be in hearing when this mighty row began, and in the presence of the king and nobles of Icespire demands a duel to defend her highness' honor. In doing so and in besting Miro, he had raised himself to such an estate that he can seek marriage to the princess and brought favor on himself from the king of that realm."

"Why that little rogue," growled Amandor rubbing his beard.

"No doubt there will be a wonderful scene of reconciliation when the princess and her consort yeoman take the throne and they will be our allies for many years to come."

"I don't know whether to beat him or commend him."

"Oh, there is a way to do both, my husband."

Amandor waved a hand to his wife beckoning for her further explanation.

"Very publicly and deliberately upbraid him for his discourteous treatment of a lady. Then tell him that he is to leave this palace wearing humble peasant's garb and riding a beggarly carthorse. For a month his home will be where he lays his head and his food will be what meager rations a humble page would eat."

Amandor laughed uproariously. "Truly witty, woman. The court will think I'm meeting out vile punishment, and all the while Miro will be happy beyond words to have a month to wander under the stars. I should have his hair hacked off in some common fashion as well so he can be well hidden among the masses.

Dessamira grimaced. "I suppose that would be that much more convincing. And he does hate his hair in royal court fashion."

"It will grow back, wife. And while it hangs about his face many ladies will feel pity for him and seek to comfort him for his harsh punishment."

Dessamira chuckled. "They will at that."

"Come, wife, I have a son to discipline, pray help me keep a confirm countenance."

* * *

A lone figure walked out of the service gateway of the palace pulling the reigns of an old cart horse behind him. He was shuffling down the dusty roads before dawn broke to avoid the gaze of any who might pity him his punishment. He was determined none see him lest they see the grin of absolute happiness on his face. He pulled his patched hood lower.

It was perfect. Keely was due to give birth to their child within the week. He would have found a way to escape to be there for the child's birth somehow, but this unexpected turn of events seemed as if fate itself was smiling down on him. A whole month—a whole month to be with his love, weeks uninterrupted to adore his child. As he reached the outskirts of the city, he mounted the horse and patted the pocket that his father had placed a note in before he donned the garb in the frosty morning air.

In the light of the early dawn he read, "Well played. The alliance you will eventually form with Icespire could be quite fruitful. Your mother is particularly impressed with your cunning."

Miro swallowed back the bile that rose to his throat. He'd impressed his mother with his cunning. He'd always despised her underhanded ways, and now…. "No," he told himself. "I'm not like her. I was trying to help another person be with the person they loved. The alliance…it was helpful, but I would have done it alliance or no. I'm not like them."

Miro took a deep breath. At least they didn't know about Keely. He was sure of that. Had they known they would have pulled him inside and pressed him to the metaphorical coals and had him annul the marriage. That would not happen. Eternos would lose a prince first.

* * *

"I still can't believe he was so harshly punished," said Ranay.

"His words toward the princess were unduly harsh," recalled Janis.

"And completely out of character," Ranay pointed out. "Do you suppose he knew about that yeoman?"

"The one who fought him? That he could beat him?" asked Janis.

"No, Janis. I mean did you see the way the Princess looked at the yeoman. It was the way Randal looks at his Tamra. She loved him before he even had a chance to defend her."

"Really? Do you think so?" asked Janis.

"I can imagine as much as they had spent time together, it would have provoked him greatly to learn her ardor for him did not match his own."

"Perhaps my lady," Janis said thoughtfully.

"I can't imagine any other thing that could have so distracted him that he would lose first blood. Miro is an excellent fighter, and the yeoman did not seem to have much training at all."

"All I know, my lady, is that there are far too many things around here that are not what they seem," Janis grumped.

"Which is why I'm grateful every day I have you here with me," said Ranay, hugging her friend.

* * *

Janis smiled back. "As I am for you."

Keely stood at the window washing out the linen sheets she planned to trim down into diapers she would so soon be using. She knew Miro had funneled her more than enough money to buy everything her child needed and more but she'd already run out of room for linens with all of the others he sent in his generous care packages to her each month and she saw no need to spend money on something that could be made easily. She was wringing out the last of the soon-to-be-repurposed sheet when she saw a peasant coming up the road on an old cart horse. Keely panicked. She ducked out of the window and hid behind the door, holding it closed with her body.

"Keely! Keely!" a familiar voice called.

"Miro," Keely gasped and threw open the door.

Miro was off his mount at once. "Keely!" he shouted. He raced to wrap her in his arms.

"Miro," Keely sighed into his ragged hair. "I'm so happy you're here, and …oooh!"

"What?" asked Miro leaning back to look at his glowing wife.

Keely laughed. "Apparently so is our child." She took his pale hand in her blue and guided it down to her lower abdomen.

"He kicked me!" shouted Miro.

"He?" asked Keely.

"Any child who kicks that hard has to be a boy," grinned Miro.

Keely shook her head at her husband. "We'll see in a week," she said impishly.

Miro lowered his face down to her stomach. "You won't keep me waiting a whole week, will you son?" asked Miro teasingly. "You want to come out and play with Papa too don't you?"

It was later that night Keely was throwing pillows and anything else she could get her hands on at Miro.

"Just had to…..uuuuuggggghhh….get him all worked up! Owwwwwww! Next time you can have the baby."

Once Keely had wearied of her shrieking at Miro and thrown all around her at him he carefully approached.

"I'm sorry for the pain, my love," he said gently as he lifted her up and placed a pillow behind her head.

"I'm sorry," Keely whimpered, tears leaking out of the corners of her clenched eyes. "It just hurts so much more than I imagined."

Miro dabbed away her tears with a linen handkerchief and offered her cool water from the well.

Late into the night Miro gently tended his wife and as the dawn broke flooding the small home with golden rays of light, a tiny cry filled the small cottage with great joy.

**Author's Note: I am incredibly sorry it's taken this long to update this story. I've been batteling clincal depression and writng has been almost impossible. I think my doc has the right med mix and I'm now feeling a lot better. For those of you wondering if the story of Keldor, Lyn, She-Ra and the gang taking down the last remnants of the Horde will ever be written. I can tell you I have a definate storyline in mind and have started working on it. **

**As soon as I've written far enough ahead for comfort I'll post.**

**And as always I don't own this, nor do I make any money from this so please don't sue me. **


	11. Time's Passage

**Author's Note: I am soooooo sorry I've let this fic of mine languish. I love this fic and want to do it justice and do know where it's going eventually. My great struggle, besides writer's block was to show passage of a large block of time without becoming boring or dragging the story along. I hope this chapter accomplishes this goal. **

**But no, I'm not giving up on this fic or the one where Keldor and She Ra take down the Horde. Unfortunately chronic illness has gotten in the way.**

**Finally. I make no money from this fic and own nothing but a few plot bunnies and a huge writer's block.**

* * *

My dearest Keely,

How much I wish I could be at home with you and my Keldor. I gaze on the pictures you sent of my little prince any time I am safely alone in my office. I can hardly believe he is over 6 months old now. Oh how I wish you were in my suite now, and that I could walk proudly with you on my arm. I understand we must be sure, however. In such a public office, I must be sure that hatred of elves will never put your or Keldor's life at risk.

I work each day to incorporate more peoples into alliance with us who aren't 'human.' The Adrenoids are a curious and particularly fascinating people. They are ruled by one queen who is also their mother, but they are industrious and proud. I hope that with several serving in a new corp of warriors meant for defense of all allied kingdoms nonhuman bias will soon pass away. We're calling them the Masters and this elite guard is growing stronger each day and, thankfully, more diverse. If all goes well we'll soon involve the flying citizens of Aviaon as well. A few lizard men have offered to join and one of the Moss beings, a mighty warrior woman of these plant folk has joined us as well.

Unfortunately for the human kingdoms to adjust to these changes will take time just as you predicted and I suspected.

I miss you my love, and my dear boy. Hopefully I can see you soon after the trade summit this month.

Your beloved,

Miro

* * *

Dearest Brother,

I am so excited to hear that Tamra is with child! I would be in a shuttle in an instant to see you if my duties allowed it. Alas, they do not. I've been in the Queen's service for almost three years now, but my duties are ever getting heavier. Now she has me working with the steward and learning at his side much like an apprentice would. I am sure this education will serve me well as I am settled in some smaller kingdom where I will be head of the household in more than just name but duty as well, but honestly, Randall, my head spins with numbers and figures these days.

I will learn it. I am committed to learning it, but know that midst my busy days ahead, there will not be one day that I will not think of you and my niece or nephew with longing.

I will see you as soon as my duty permits.

Your proud sister,

Ranay

* * *

Dearest Keely,

His first words were da da? Really? Oh my dear, I am over the moons. I love you so much and am so proud of my little prince. Everyone here is planning my 23rd birthday, but they are too late. You, my love, have already filled my heart with so much joy and pride, there can be no better gift. I love you. I love you. I love you. And I adore our wonderful, intelligent, perfect son. Hug and kiss him for me. I will find a way to come to you soon.

Yours always,

Miro

* * *

Dear Randal,

I'm so relieved to hear that Tamra and little Sully are well I can't wait to see him and shower his tiny face with kisses. I was so worried when I heard she had such an early delivery and that it was so hard. My hopes and thoughts are always with you.

I've asked the queen, and she has promised I may come home for a few weeks to spend time with all of the family. Especially with my little nephew.

I was worried I wouldn't be able to come seeing as the prince's 24th birthday is but a few months away, and the Queen has had me plan the parties for the past three years. But she surprised me by telling me that she fully believed in my mastery for planning any social gathering among royalty great or small and that would no longer be one of my duties.

I still wonder what she is planning for me, but I shant worry about it now. As soon as this letter is off, I'll be packing to come see you.

Your sister,

Ranay

* * *

My Dearest Miro,

Keldor took his first steps today. Not only that, he went from holding to the edge of the chair to stand to walking across the room. I'm grinning even as I send you this letter. I sent another picture to you of our little walker in action. The enchantments that hide the picture until you touch it are still in place. I am grateful we can write each other in the language of my people and so protect our letters from being intercepted and destroying the hard work you are doing to set all circumstances in our favor when you bring us to your home, but I hate that we must hide.

My love, it wears on me. The weight of this secret we bear.

It is only the strength of my love for you and Keldor that sustains me.

Yours eternally,

Keely.

* * *

Dear Father,

I am very sorry. I know it's been over 9 months since my last letter to you. I've been busy wouldn't serve as an adequate excuse, would it?

I thought not. I'm sorry, Papa. Queen Dessamira immerses me in more and more duties as the weeks pass by me. I'm now working with refugees from a nearby flood, and it is like ruling a tiny kingdom all its own. Father, I am in awe of you. Simply caring for the needs, addressing squabbles, and seeing that I help just enough without leading those I'm helping to become dependent on me is mystifyingly difficult. And to think you've been doing this type of work on a larger scale for longer than I've lived. Papa, you are amazing!

There is one thing about working with the refugees I love though. The children are so loveable. I could spend hours cuddling the dear little ones that race around the camp laughing and playing even as their parents are fighting back tears.

I can't wait to have my own children one day, but there is still over a year in my service to the Queen, and she doesn't encourage me to spend much time in the company of the lords at the balls and banquets. She tells me that there is plenty of time for me whenever the subject is mentioned. It worries me, Papa.

I promise to try to arrange a trip home soon.

Your princess,

Ranay

* * *

Dearest Father,

I have good news…of a sort. Queen Dessamira has offered to extend my time with her and has made me a very lucrative offer to benefit our kingdom. I have accepted. The queen has finally assured me that she has several high households that she has been watching for some time and wants to see one as diligent and loyal as myself happily settled in one of them.

Janis and I are getting together a list of potential matches from the queen's words and I am amazed and a little… a lot….unsure. I'm not sure I'm capable of ruling such vast and wealthy kingdoms as Janis and I are seeing as possibilities.

Janis says I worry too much, and that the Queen has prepared me well for any kingdom. I only hope she's right.

Your Girl,

Ranay

* * *

Dearest Keely,

I've placed the picture of Keldor wearing his crest on my desk. A picture of my mother and father cover it, but when I look at the frame I see us together in my mind and heard. Keldor in my arms and his crest around his neck! I'm so proud of my son. It's hard to believe he's five now. Even harder to believe is my parent's stubbornness. The Masters have garnered favor and alliances left and right. Our kingdom is wealthier than ever, and now we will be hosting a trade summit for over 50 kingdoms. Yet whenever the conversation of my choice of bride is brought up my father is unyielding.

I don't understand why this is so important to them. I've proved myself more than enough to prosper our kingdom. An alliance is no longer needed.

Sometimes I think it's about control for them. Though I'm sure my mother would come up with many fine sounding reasons for her choice for me and my lack of choice. I, however, have no desire to hear them.

Your husband,

Miro

* * *

Dear Papa,

I truly am sorry I haven't written you before now. I promise you that if there are any suitors that are serious , you will be the first to know. I've been serving with the queen now for over seven years and there is no sign of petitioner for my hand. Yet her watchers of me are well known to me now.

It is the watchers that let me know she means me for some great household. Oh they are discreet, but as potential suitors have come within my sphere, the watchers become obvious, and I know that they are ensuring I have no un toward attentions come my way or that I return any such attentions.

I am beginning to worry that I see something of Queen Dessamira's design, but I hope I'm wrong. I'll tell you more when I visit for my 26th birthday.

I love you and promise to write soon,

Your Princess,

Ranay


End file.
